Words of Wisdom
by September And Summer
Summary: Gracie McCauldon thought her life was running smoothly, until she enters her sixth year of Hogwarts. Her bestfriend keeps secrets from her, James Potter and Fred Weasley keep sticking to her like glue and then there's her mother who turns up out of the blue. Add Quidditch, Malfoys, Parties, Detentions and the Weasley clan means Sixth Year could be more complicated than she thought.
1. The One where Uncle Paddy Gets Sloshed

**Summary:** Gracie McCauldon thought her life was running smoothly, until she enters her sixth year of Hogwarts. Her bestfriend starts keeping secrets from her, James Potter and Fred Weasley can't seem to stay away and a surprise visit from her mother seems to make her world implode. Add in Quidditch, Malfoys, Parties and the entire Weasley clan means Sixth Year may not be what she expected. Next-Generation.

 **A/N** OK, my first Next-Gen story! This also in diary format - like Louise Rennison, Meg Cabot & Helen Fielding. It's from the point of view of my OC, Grace McCauldon, a Gryffindor in James Potter II & Fred Weasley II's year. I started the planning for this before J.K. made it canon that James was two years above Albus at Hogwarts. However, I personally prefer the one-year difference, so in this story, Albus, Rose & Louis Weasley are the year below. Please remember to leave a review!

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights to J. K. Rowling and other affiliations with the Harry Potter Franchise.**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **"THE ONE WHERE UNCLE PADDY GETS SLOSHED"**

 **Saturday, August 28** **th** **  
10.35 am, the Living Room  
Status: Annoyed  
Weather: Rain**

TOP 10 THINGS which Grace Louise McCauldon (i.e. myself) ABSOLUTLY HATES ABOUT HER LIFE [CURRENTLY]:

 **1)** My brother, well half-brother to be precise, Michael (lovingly referred to as 'Mickey') is the absolute bane of my entire existence and has decided, upon turning eleven three months ago, that it is his duty to piss me off every day, without fail. Sadly, so far, he has succeeded.

 **2)** My _other_ brother, a Mr Dylan McCauldon, who is a full brother this time, who hates a) Quidditch b) having fun and c) basically everything I like. You see my dilemma?

 **3)** The fact that my father or Julie, my lovely vegetarian weird-as-hell stepmother, has given me NO SISTERS.

 **4)** Because I have no sisters, older or otherwise, I have no one to share clothes with, no one to steal clothes _off_ of (Dylan's clothes are so god-awfully dull I can't bear to look into his _wardrobe,_ let alone wear the damn things) no one to give advice/have advice given to ones self which could help my SOCIAL AWKWARDNESS and my utter incompetence to make new friends.

 **5)** It's raining. This means a) no playing Quidditch outside b) not leaving my house and c) having to stay inside with both Michael and Dylan (mentioned above).

 **6)** My weird-as-hell stepmother Julie has 'made' cupcakes and wishes us all to eat them. A major flaw in the plan: Julie _can't cook._ And, because my luck is never around to save the day, I shall probably have to eat them all as Dylan has stated he is allergic to strawberries (what a liar, he was eating them yesterday), Michael has said he wants to keep his appetite for lunch (which he never does) and Dad ( _even my_ father _is against me)_ has said he's 'watching his shape' which is _utter_ rubbish as myself and him went out for burgers yesterday when Julie was too involved with a stupid television programme on bees.

 **7)** So, as I have no excuse _not_ to eat them, I shall have to poison myself and become ill for the last days of summer.

 **8)** Adding to my previous point of rain, it means I cannot enjoy my summer because of the _stupid British summer weather._

 **9)** My best and really my only friend, Vivian Abercrombie is visiting her eccentric grandmother in Italy and won't be back until the day before we go back to school.

 **10)** Thus, it means my life is totally horrendous as I have no one to share my feelings/woes/anger and have to sit here, in my living room, watching Michael's favourite cartoons because really, there's nothing else to do.

* * *

 **10.47 am, still in the living room  
Status: Still annoyed, slightly nauseated  
Weather: Still rain**

Julie asked me if I was writing about her lovely cupcakes in here.

"You write in that thing a lot, Gracie," she said. "Is it full of compliments about my lovely cakes?"

She only asked me because when I was given a lovely (horrid) cupcake, instead of biting into it and going _"Mmm, lovely cakes, Julie, you're the best. You should make these every day!"_ like a good stepdaughter should I merely took a bite and tried not to grimace, but instead I ended up coughing when a few crumbs ended up in my lungs instead of my stomach. So I made things worse for myself, especially because Mickey and Dylan laughed uproariously at me, and obviously offended Julie, who is now trying to make me feel guilty.

So I told her that I would never write about her cupcakes in _this_ measly old thing, because I'd much rather tell them to her face.

It was a good lie, as it made Julie happy and Mickey and Dylan stop laughing.

And to get to the point why I write in this 'thing' a hell of a lot about what I get up to/how I feel etc. etc. blah blah blah is because I'm so socially lagging I can't show/tell my feelings to anyone without looking like an utter twit. So normally I am this emotionless one-friended girl who has a lot of pent up feelings that wish to escape and do so in the worst circumstances _ever._

For example, fourth-year, I fancied poor unsuspecting Justin Lennox, a rather dashing Ravenclaw who I sat next to in Charms. And when Vivian, who is very bossy in a friendly-kind-of-way, told me I should ask _him_ out, and I unwittingly agreed, it all went belly up. You see, when someone (me) fancies one other (Justin Lennox) and asks them out that someone doesn't do it normally. Instead, they _bellow it out during dinner for everyone to a) hear b) laugh at and c) talk about it (and the rather bad rejection I got) for the remainder of the week._ I was known as Lady Bellows for a month. He also never spoke to me again and I still haven't got over it, even though I am nearly entering my sixth-year as a truly crazy sixteen-nearly-seventeen-year-old.

Also, I never listened to Vivian's dating advice ever again after that and I don't think she blames me, but I also think that _she_ thinks it's not her fault. Which it most definitely is.

Anyway, by now I've finished the cake and I am now feeling slightly ill over it. Dylan, Mickey and I have had a very loving brother-sister-brother conversation about it.

Me: I think that cake is going to come back up.  
Dylan: You do look green, a vast improvement, I'd say [Ha ha ha ha, very droll]  
Mickey: Hear hear! [Suck up]  
Me: If it does I shall make sure that it goes directly onto you.  
Dylan: That would be hard as your aim is shocking.  
Me: Excuse you, I'm Gryffindor's prized Chaser, it's _you_ that's got the aiming problem.  
Dylan: Aiming problem? At least I haven't got a _life_ problem.  
Me: Life problem? At least I don't have an _annoying-as-hell_ problem.  
Mickey: Mum, Grace said 'hell'.  
Julie: Don't say hell Gracie.  
Me: It's not like it's a rude word, what's rude is that you think it's rude when actually it's supposedly a place people go to, so in actual fact you're being rude to everyone ever gone to hell.  
Mickey: What?  
Dylan: It's okay, Mickey, the people from the asylum are coming to pick her up tomorrow.

What a great life I lead. Oh, and Dad has finally turned up (I don't know where he's been but he's got wood chips in his hair so I'm guessing he's making something again) and is saying we should have a family outing like the good old times.

Um. HELLO? IT'S RAINING!

* * *

 **4.45 pm, my bedroom  
Status: Utterly frustrated & equally pissed off  
Weather: Cloudy**

After my father's proposed family outing, Julie suggests we go to Diagon Alley to get our stuff for Hogwarts, which starts on September 1st and is literally only a few days away.

"But it's a Saturday," said Dad. [Congratulations]

"It's also raining," said Julie. [Hello Mrs Obvious]

"So?"

"It means no one will be going to Diagon Alley to fetch their stuff, as it's raining and they'll all be inside."

Julie is one clever witch.

3 REASONS WHY GOING TO DIAGON ALLEY ON A SATURDAY WHEN IT'S RAINING IS AN UTTERLY PERFECT IDEA:

 **1)** There's a 98% chance I shall see _no one_ I know and therefore will not have to talk awkwardly to or try and avoid.

 **2)** Therefore, no awkward encounters in shops, where there will be other people who don't know me and label as mentally insane.

 **3)** And also, no one, means no one in shops. I.e. I can't embarrass myself in various different ways!

My luck has returned from its holiday. I think it goes to Africa in the winter months and the Caribbean in the summer, and sometimes pops in for a quick 'hello' before leaving me stranded.

Oh, and also I've had a major revelation.

 _I can feed the Satan cupcakes to Stanley!_

Stanley is our dog. He's not a puppy but he's not an ancient dog either so usually he goes mental, runs around the garden and then collapses and realises his fun days are over.

Anyway, he also eats anything, which means I can totally feed him the cupcakes slowly so it looks like I'm eating them.

Unless they're so awful it poisons him?

Nah.

* * *

 **5.16 pm, back in my room**  
 **Status: Triumphant  
Weather: Still cloudy and rather gloomy.  
MISSION CUPCAKE A-GO-GO: ****_Complete with major success_**

I officially did it! I fed Stanley three of the cupcakes (and he is yet to show signs of _poisonedness_ , so that is also a bonus) and when Julie entered I totally faked out on her saying I accidently ate three in a row.

She loves me now.

Where was I before I became triumphant? Ah yes, frustrated.

Julie's idea of Diagon Alley went down a treat, as Mickey wanted to get his new stuff for Hogwarts (wand, robes, cauldron _blah blah blah)_ Dylan wanted a new chess set (what a bore) and I, well I was pleased to leave the house and celebrate my freedom.

So we found ourselves in a vastly empty Diagon Alley forty-five minutes later after travelling by Floo, and running to the nearest shop which just so happened to be the Apothecary. I needed Potion supplies, and so did my brothers, so we were all in the good-good.

It continued this way, and we even stopped off in _Quality Quidditch Supplies,_ which was a pleasant surprise, even when I nearly knocked over a stand of broomsticks and nearly got chucked out. We actually got everything we needed until we got to _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes._

That's when it hit me.

 _Fred Weasley._

It was wide, common knowledge that Fred Weasley, notorious prankster, one of my top five most-annoying-people-at-Hogwarts list, completely true to his namesake and son of George Weasley, creator of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes along with said namesake, worked at his dad's shop in the summer holidays.

Why did I forget? Did I honestly think, in my puny little brain, that Frederick would choose not to come into work just because of _rain?_

God, I was stupid.

Though he is in the same year and house as I am I don't talk to him all that much. In fact, I generally avoid him as much as I possibly can as to a) avoid an embarrassing conversation which could add up to b) him laughing at me and c) getting pranked in the near future.

So, there was I, with this unpleasant revelation, hoping to steer my loving family _away_ from the dratted actually-pretty-good shop and into a nicer one like a junk shop, when Mickey, damn him to hell, opened his mouth.

"We can go to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, right Mum?"

And Julie, bless her soul, tried to say no before my dratted father said "Sure, early birthday present, eh Mickey?"

And Mickey, all smiles and grins as he takes his dad by the arm and drags him into the shop, misses my I-shall-kill-you-if-you-do-this glare.

And because Dad and Mickey go in, it means Julie, Dylan and I also have to as well.

Honestly, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is actually a pretty amazing/impressive place which sells some pretty awesome stuff. And usually it's packed with eager students and whatnot, which means I can usually get around without being noticed, but alas, as the rain is driving people away, it is empty save a father and daughter, who's younger than Mickey.

Just when I think my luck gets any worse, I see, and actually _catch eyes with_ Fred Weasley and, low and behold, his best friend and cousin, notorious prankster like himself and son of the-guy-who-vanquished-the-Dark-Lord and all that, James Potter.

When you're the son of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, both famous in their own rights (Mrs Potter played for the Holyhead Harpies), it means everyone knows who you are, it means you have a rather large head and it means you're excellent at Quidditch.

I admit I'm slightly – _slightly –_ jealous of James Sirius Potter's Quidditch skills, but that's beside the point.

The point is, the two blokes I don't talk too much at school, decided to become very talkative and make a point of knowing who I was.

"GRACIE!"

Oh boy.

James, being faster than his cousin, managed to leap onto me first. Literally _leap_ onto me in something he later called a 'hug'.

Pfft, I was nearly _knocked to the floor._

I like hugs. Honestly, I _do,_ though only with people I like and not when they're out of pity. But anyway, when a boy who is bordering the six foot range (he's way taller than his dad, which is actually hilarious when I see them on the platform together) leaps onto a poor girl of 5'4"and practically squeezes her to death, it is safe to assume that I don't like it.

And when his stupid cousin lets out a similar yell and jumps in to join I can't say I enjoyed the experience very much.

Luckily for me, my saviour Mr George Weasley came and prised the boys off my body fairly swiftly. He's probably used to doing things like that.

"Don't kill all the customers!" Mr Weasley said, grinning down at me. He too was rather tall, and that's why Fred is so tall himself.

"But its _Gracie McCauldon!"_ said Fred, as if it answered everything.

"We haven't had the pleasure of seeing her since last term!" said James happily.

"Pleasure?" I scoffed. "As if Potter."

"See? She's as cheerful as a ladybug," said Fred, beaming up at his father.

"You're as annoying as Professor Danvers near the holiday period," I retorted.

James snorted with laughter. "Good one, McCauldon."

Even Mr Weasley, who had previously been my saviour, was smirking a little too. I didn't know if this was _at_ or _with_ me at this point in time.

I scowled, shook my hair and stomped away, because really, I did not want stay next to either one of them.

So there I was, bright red and stomping round the shop after my family, who had chosen to disappear at my time of need, when the two boys caught up with me again.

"Didn't mean to offend you, Gracie," said Fred, bouncing next to me. That's the trouble with these two boys, they _bounce_ when they're excited. And apparently that's swoon worthy to all the girls at Hogwarts (minus family members and few sane people) who literally kiss the ground they walk on. When they don't bounce they move in such an effortlessly cool way it could make anyone jealous. And it definitely does.

"You didn't," I replied back, pretending to be engrossed in a box of Nosebleed Nougats.

"How's your summer been?" asked James. I took a glance out of the corner of my eye and saw he was actually serious.

"Alright," I said. Really, my vocabulary is quite shocking, could I really only say ' _alright'?_ I decided to elaborate. "Haven't done much."

"We haven't seen you around here very many times," said Fred. Usually, when Viv is around we go to Diagon Alley quite a bit. Especially at Florean Fortescue's, now run by his grandson Brosnan, who has extended it out into several other shops. The ice cream is awesome, but I know for a fact that the Potters and Weasleys get a friendly discount because their good friends.

"Viv's at her grandmothers' house," I answered. "I've just been sat at home watching television."

"You have a television too?" asked James rather excitedly. "Dad persuaded Mum to get one. I didn't realise you had one." He looked rather curious, because really, being pureblood as I am, it's quite unusual.

"My stepmum is muggleborn," I said.

"I didn't know you had a stepmother," said Fred.

I nodded. "Mm, she's been with us since I was like six. I have a half-brother."

James and Fred looked ready to ask another question and I bet you ten galleons it would have been ' _where's your real mum?'_ or something along those lines.

But George Weasley reappeared (he really is a nice fellow) and ordered them back to work and told them he wasn't paying them to harass their friends.

That's what got me frustrated. He thought we were _friends._ FRIENDS.

And to make matters worse, Julie and Dad thought so too! Their exact words were: "It's nice to see you have other friends as well as Vivian, Gracie."

THEY'RE NOT MY FRIENDS.

* * *

 **8.19 pm, the kitchen  
Status: Stubbornly hiding from the family  
Weather: Probably still cloudy**

I don't actually _know_ who my mother is. I mean, she was around until I was about three and Dylan was about four (he's in the year above me and yet acts as though he is so much older and mature than I am. Which he probably is. Mature, I mean, not older) but when you're three years old you don't remember all that much thirteen years later. I guess I remember _some_ of her – she definitely had blonde hair, for one thing, which is strange because it is _so_ unlike mine (mine's a delightful brown-not-quite-black colour) so this means I don't look like her all that much. My Dad, a delightful named Jonathan McCauldon, doesn't talk about her all that much. Dylan doesn't seem bothered, Mickey has nothing to do with her and Julie never says anything about her. I'm _slightly_ interested, however, and have always tried to find something about her somewhere.

THINGS GRACIE MCCAULDON KNOWS ABOUT HER MOTHER:

 **1)** She is/was from a pureblood family and was sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts.

 **2)** She left my dad when we were young because she didn't love him anymore

 **3)** She doesn't want to know about us

 **4)** Can't say I like her because of this.

 **5)** She has blonde hair and blue eyes (and I got the blue eyes)

 **6)** And apparently she's tall as well, which is surprising news for me and I'm slightly irritated by this fact. Where did my genes come from?

 **7)** She was three years younger than my dad

Not much to get from that is there?

Anyway, dinner was rather good tonight, which is probably because Dad made it (huzzah!). However, they also seemed keen to discuss my so-called 'friends' with me, considering they were boys and all. Dylan and Mickey found it hilarious and Julie and Dad were _very interested._ Seriously, I thought _I_ didn't have a life. And also, Dylan really belongs in Slytherin with how sly he was asking all those questions to get everyone interested.

"How did you meet?"

"Did you save them or something?"

"Or slip them a love potion? You'd probably do it quite well, you know."

How he got into Gryffindor is beyond me.

So I am currently sitting in the kitchen avoiding everyone but Stanley, who is chewing Dylan's new slipper having just eaten another cupcake. I had to eat another one at dinner with Julie watching because it was the only pudding available.

And Dad is also discussing which options I'm taking the year coming up because of my O.W.L results. Apparently not taking Herbology is a dreadful crime.

* * *

 **Sunday, August 29** **th** **  
11.02 am, my bedroom  
Status: hiding from parents yet again  
Weather: Actually clear.**

I got surprisingly alright O.W.L results. I think Dad was rather shocked when I showed him the letter when he got home from work a few weeks after we had left school. I mean, his crazy one-friend daughter who had detention quite a lot of the time and was not at all like his oldest son, actually got _alright grades?_

It was a shock, I can tell you. Who would have thought that I, Grace Louise McCauldon, would get an 'O' in Transfiguration and Potions, and 'E' in practically everything else and only fail a few subjects rather miserably. I mean, seriously who wants to take History of Magic at N.E.W.T level? Professor Binns, who has been working there for at least one hundred and fifty years, is the most boring teacher in existence. And who cares that I failed Astronomy? I mean I passed _Divination,_ for crying out loud. I think that is the best achievement I got.

Dad was saved from giving me the you-need-Herbology lecture because our Uncle Paddy came round and they're now having a pint in the kitchen talking about the 'good old times at Hogwarts' and asking me what it's like there now.

Even Dylan and Mickey, who is starting in September, have left the room and hidden inside their bedroom. It's annoying too as I really wanted to play Quidditch today, but I have the feeling if I fetch my broom Dad and Paddy will try and play as well.

Uncle Paddy (Patrick) has no kids or a wife, which is really no surprise as he hangs out in the Leaky Cauldron four times a week with his mates, talking about the good old times. That's all they ever talk about.

* * *

 **11.18am.**

I got a letter from Vivian today:

 _Dear Gracie,_

 _I hope you haven't done anything completely mad because I'm not with you and you're alone with your family._

That girl holds me with such support. Me? Mad?

 _Phineas is driving me mad at the moment because he can't wait to get back to Hogwarts. I bet it's so he can go to the library again, I mean, we don't have one so immediately our house sucks. Grandmother was crazy as always, she insisted on showing us her ghoul family living in the attic which none of us wanted to see, but at least we had our cousins there to make a joke of it.  
I won't be able to see you until September 1_ _st_ _, I'm afraid, as there's this late family barbeque I just HAVE to attend which we're catering for. It totally sucks, but remember to save me a seat in our carriage okay?_

Save a seat? Who else would sit in MY carriage with ME?

 _I have a feeling sixth-year is going to be good – no stress of O. or N.E. ! Great isn't it?_

 _See you on the Hogwarts Express!_

 _Your one sane friend_

 _Viv_

* * *

 **12.38 pm, kitchen  
Status: Nauseous  
Weather: still good**

Dear Merlin I truly believe those cakes are poisonous. Why would Julie want to poison me? And to make matters 3x worse Stanley's been sick. That means the cakes _were_ poisonous. It's just taking slower with me because I only had three and Stanley had about six.

Poor Stanley, I do love him even though I unintentionally poisoned him because of my own selfish reasons.

* * *

 **12.57 pm, still in the kitchen  
Status: Still nauseous  
Weather: Decent enough**

Uncle Paddy had gone and Dad saw the mess on the floor and asked Julie. She, obviously having no idea that it was her cupcakes which were killing her dog and stepdaughter, asked me about it.

Julie: Gracie, do you know why Stanley's been sick? He was alright yesterday.  
Me: I truly have no idea, Julie. (I should become an actress I think, or a professional liar)  
Dad: There's got to be a reason why he's suddenly throwing up.  
Me: Maybe he ate something in the garden? There are some weird things out there this time of year.  
Dad: What sort of things?  
Me: Er, hedgehogs. Manure. Slippers.  
Julie: Hedgehogs are autumnal creatures.  
Dad: Slippers?  
Me: It's very nearly autumn, Julie. And yes, slippers could be a main contender.  
Julie: I did find Dylan's slipper in his bed.

Hurrah! Problem solved.

* * *

 **1.15 pm, living room  
Status: Normal  
Weather: Clear and beautiful and I REALLY WANT TO PLAY QUIDDITCH**

Ok, problem was _not_ solved because when Julie went out the room, Dad stayed in, unbeknownst to me, and it made me jump a foot in the air when he spoke.

"Don't feed Stanley cupcakes, Gracie."

I thought only Professors and Aurors were perceptive? And mothers?

I feigned innocence.

"Sorry?"

"It could do him serious damage," insisted Dad. "Look, if you want to get those cupcakes away do it another way."

"I think they're poison," I said, utterly serious.

"Don't be stupid, Gracie," Dad sighed and walked away – not before taking a cupcake, squishing it and throwing it stealthily in some kitchen paper! Seriously, my dad would have made a decent Slytherin too.

So now I'm sitting in the living room, my genius plan foiled, asking Dylan to play Quidditch with me.

" _Please_ Dylan?"

"No."

"I'll do something for you in return!"

Ah ha! This got his attention.

"If you play chess with me I shall play Quidditch with you."

Ew, chess. I do like playing it when there is the chance I can _win,_ but against Dylan means NO CHANCE AT ALL.

But the Quidditch vibe is too strong.

"Deal."

YES!

* * *

 **2.45 pm, in the garden  
Status: Tired but AWESOME  
Weather: who cares?**

Okay, that was the best fun I've had for the better part of the entire summer, and not just because I can beat Dylan at something he's shit at. No, no, no, I am very good at Quidditch. I have been the Chaser since my third-year and have been ever since.

I managed to beat Dylan as Keeper every time I even went near the goal, and Mickey, who decided to play as well, honestly sucked trying to be defence. He was useless, even when they both ganged up on me. Brothers.

But as it's still nice weather I decided to stay outside a little longer, because Uncle Paddy came back around because he forgot his hipflask. He loves his hipflask – in fact, he's proclaiming it's like his wife to him right as I write.

" _You see, Johnny, this hipflask is as loving as any wife could be – it gives me what I want, when I want, and I don't have to ask it to. Pretty nifty, eh?"_

Uncle Paddy seriously needs a girlfriend. Last month Dad and Julie set him on a date with some gal from the Ministry and it didn't turn out so well. Apparently he'd taken her to the Leaky Cauldron and that was it.

It's kind of like what I do to guys, repel them, I mean.

Oh Merlin.

I'm going to be the female version of Uncle Pads.

 _Noooooo._

My life is shockingly bad right now. Uncle Paddy is now marrying his hipflask. I think he's drunk because he can't even Apparate. Julie said he could stay for dinner. Which is quite good, actually, because maybe he could give me tips on how to become the best man-repeller ever.

To be fair to myself, I _have_ had some very, very good snogs. One-time-things. Like rather slaggy occasions, I have to admit, for example at last year's end-of-OWLs party.

Moving on.

Mrs Potts from next door poked her head over the fence whilst we were playing Quidditch as well. She's an old muggle who really is into everyone's business and hates noise. Which is what we were doing. But Dad has charmed the garden so that whenever we're playing Quidditch it looks like we're playing a muggle sport, football. I haven't ever played football, but Mickey has with his muggle friends and apparently, according to him, it's much better. Kicking a ball with no flying involved? As if, Mickey.

So anyway, she yelled at us that we were making too much noise and that if we didn't shut up she would call the muggle police, which we all had a good laugh at before telling her that we had a right to play football in our garden at two o'clock in the afternoon, loud or otherwise. She then got very angry and started throwing her shoes at us, which apparently the only things she had which she could throw at that time. I was rather pleased it wasn't a trowel or something garden-related, because it could hurt. But the thing was, when she returned inside to get more shoes and what-not, and we threw her shoes back over the fence, we decided to make a game of it.

RULES OF THE MCCAULDON SIBLING'S DODGING GAME:

 **#1** ** _If hit on any part of the body, as in feet, leg, arm, chest, head or other place, twenty points will be taken off._**

 **#2** ** _If it is a 'near miss', which will be decided as a collaboration of all participants and the majority wins, you receive twenty-five points._**

 **#3** ** _Pushing is against the rules, as well as elbowing, spitting on thrower, calling s/he names to get more things thrown at you._**

 **#4** ** _If said thrower gets hit by a missile one has thrown, twenty points will be given._**

 **#5** ** _If hit three times the player is out. Last person standing wins fifty points before it starts again._**

That's probably the reason I'm tired, because by the time we'd finished dodging and throwing back and Potty yelling herself hoarse, Dad and Julie had figured out what was going on and accidentally let Stanley into the garden, who then proceeded to think it was great fun too and chased us around the garden.

* * *

 **3.08 pm, my bedroom  
** **still good weather**

Julie and Dad went round Mrs Potts's house and calmed her down and then came home and banished us all into our rooms (Uncle Paddy was laughing his head off and making sparks come out of his wand) until dinnertime.

I don't think Mrs Potts likes us very much, not that she did in the first place. Whilst my banishment is still in progress, I've decided to write back to Viv.

 _Dear Viv,_

 _I am controlling my crazy mind by playing Quidditch and making up a game with Potty Mrs Potts. She started throwing stuff at us, so really, there's no way Dylan, Mickey and I shouldn't make a game of it? But now we've all been banished to our rooms whilst Dad and Julie sort Mrs Potts and Uncle Paddy out, who is obscenely drunk and is singing 'We Three Wizards of Merlin's Realm' at this current time even though Dad and Julie insist it isn't the right moment.  
Don't be bothered by Phineas, he really is lovely. Care to swap Dylan and Mickey? The offer still stands from last year.  
And really, dear Vivian, who on earth would share a carriage with me apart from you? As soon as they see my face through the glass they shall be gone and I shall be alone once more. And don't have high hopes on sixth-year, because when your friends with me, a crazy old loon who deserves to go to an asylum (I truly believe Dylan has already appealed for me) yet is ace at Quidditch, your years are never what you anticipate.  
Honestly, Viv, I can't believe you haven't got grey hair already._

 _Love your one insane friend_

 _Gracie_

* * *

 **10.57 pm, my bed  
Status: tired  
Weather: it's very dark **

As punishment for my, Dylan and Mickey's stupid behaviour Dad took away Dylan's chess set, Mickey's books (which he's been reading avidly) and MY DIARY.

HE TOOK MY – _THIS –_ DIARY!

DOES ' _GRACIE MCCAULDON'S PRIVATE DIARY'_ NOT MEAN ANYTHING TO THAT MAN?

DOES THE FACT THAT I PUT MANY-A-CHARM ON IT WHEN I WAS AT HOGWARTS TO KEEP PEOPLE OFF IT MEAN _NOTHING?_

If he read it whilst it was out of my loving grasp he shall meet an early grave. Because he's probably shown Julie, who will know it was I that fed Stanley poisonous cupcakes and I that broke her vase and blamed it on Mickey last year. It was a very ugly vase.

Luckily he gave it back when he thought I was sleeping just now. I wasn't, because I was planning a good escapade into getting the diary back involving rope, paperclips and a hammer, and was just about to go through with it. Anyway, I'm slightly disappointed that I got it back so easily, but am pleased as I a) can write in it and not have to get up b) won't have to worry about getting caught and therefore losing the ability to get it back at this time and c) don't have to find a non-existent hammer in the house.

The banishers let us out at dinner and we had to sit through an entire meal with Uncle Paddy randomly bursting into song at every moment. I don't think Mickey's ever heard such language, because the real Christmas songs don't involve them.

 _While wizards watched their strengthening soup_

 _A-stewing in the cauldron pot,_

 _An ally of Merlin came way down_

 _And stole the fucking lot_

To be honest, it doesn't even make sense, and he _definitely_ stole it from a muggle song and randomly added lyrics.

Dinner was over pretty quickly when Paddy started to swear, and Mickey got sent to bed to 'protect his ears'. When he gets to Hogwarts he will not know what hits him.

I just heard a whoop coming from Dylan and Mickey's room which means they've been given their various belongings back. That's a plus side, I suppose, about being a girl with two brothers. I have my own room.

I sent Viv's letter by giving my owl, Mona, a job to do. She is very fat and very docile because she doesn't get out that much. To send letters. Considering that in the summer I only speak to Viv and at Hogwarts I only speak to Julie and Dad.

When did I become this freak with one friend? First year of Hogwarts I was a _social butterfly;_ I can tell you. I even made friends with a few Slytherins. And I was best friends with Viv too, who was friends with a few others.

I suppose it started in third-year when everyone started to piss me off and Viv had a loud argument with James Potter and Fred Weasley and I just so happened to be standing next to them. And when your best friend starts and argument with two of the most popular boys at Hogwarts, known to many as the 'New Marauders' (I bet they started that name up) and that one person doesn't disown them immediately, I guess it was obvious that the rest of the school wouldn't hold you in a good esteem. I can't really remember what the argument was about, but I have a feeling Viv had fancied Fred and something happened and she yelled at both of them … I dunno, my memory is shocking when necessary.

And when you get as many detentions as I do (and Viv, because I really do drag that girl down with me) I probably don't have enough _time_ to make new friends. I'm surprised Potter and Weasley get as much done when they get just as many detentions, if not more, than I do. On one of the rare occasions that the two boys and I are in the same conversation, they do like to bring it up and demand some sort of competition to see who wins. I think Fred won last year, with one hundred and three detentions, which really is extraordinary. James and I were pretty close, both having eighty and something. Last year was pretty bad for detentions, and I blame my many professors who decided O.W.L year was a year where they were going to give a lot of detentions and a lot of homework at the same time.

A lot of Weasley Wizard Wheezes products got used last year, to get out of class. But not to merely skive off like rebels as we are, no, they were used to students could go to the _library_ and catch up on work and probably sleep too. That is, before the crazy librarian Madam Huntz ratted you out after finding out which year you were in.

I think she is from a mad German descendant because she apparently gets sloshed in Hogsmeade when she's not marching around her library, screaming like a vulture when even _one_ of her books are put in the wrong place. It might be French. Or English. I have no idea, but she was the protégée of Madam Pince, the previous mad librarian, who retired when someone nearly blew the library up because they 'accidentally' set off some fireworks. Fireworks are now banned in the library, but I really don't think they were allowed in the first place –

Uh oh. I think Dad's realised why my light's on.


	2. The One with all the Rushing

**A/N** Thank you to the three reviewers - HappyTerrier, BlueGreen216 & Redwing1co - and the people who have followed this story already. It's greatly appreciated, and makes me want to write it more. Anyway, this is the second chapter, and tell me what you think in the reviews! :)

 **CHAPTER TWO**

 **THE ONE WITH ALL THE RUSHING**

 **Monday, August 30** **th** **  
9.34 am, the McCauldon family bathroom  
Status: Surprisingly chirpy  
Weather: Surprisingly dry and sunny**

I shoved the diary down my bed, under my sheets, so that Dad did not find it. I think he still wanted to catch me or something because he woke me up at eight o'clock and demanded me to get up to 'get back into the routine'. Meaning the routine of school. _Meaning, school starts in two days._

Now most normal people would be SUPER EXCITED to go to _Hogwarts!_ It's magical for goodness' sake and pretty awesome. And I have been excited to go to Hogwarts. But I am dreading it because of these many things:

a) Firstly, I have to get up very, very early every day because of lessons and Quidditch practice

b) I have to see people I do not want to see

c) I have to _speak_ to people I do not want to see

d) It means it's going to be winter soon because summer is over

e) School work.

However, I am looking forwards to a good many things too:

a) QUIDDITCH. Need I say anymore?

b) Vivian. Good friends are hard to find.

c) QUIDDITCH.

d) I love Hogwarts

e) QUIDDITCH

f) I can hide from Dylan and Mickey all I want, because though Dyl is in Gryffindor it doesn't mean I _see_ him and Mickey might not even make it to Gryffindor.

g) QUIDDITCH.

So, as you can see, a good many reasons to go outweighs the thought of not. (I know Quidditch seemed to crop up a lot but when you're a fanatic like I unfortunately am, it crops up a lot in day-to-day things).

So, even though my lovely father woke me up three hours before I was going to, I am surprisingly chirpy this morning. The mornings are rather refreshing and I managed to get to the cereal before my brothers and get all the good parts. And I was able to make tea and toast without having to battle my way towards the toaster. And also, Dad and Julie have gone to work, so it leaves me FREE.

Now, you're wondering why I've locked myself in our bathroom?

Mickey decided to have a farewell party without parent's permission to get all his muggle friends over and I think, if I stay in here, I can pretend it's not happening and therefore stay out of trouble for not stopping it. I do not want this taken again, you see.

So the boys and few girls who are down there are all laughing at something and listening to music very loudly, disturbing everyone's thoughts at only half past nine in the morning. I don't understand why he's had it so early, but I presume its so Julie and Dad can't see it if they happen to pop in for lunch.

Ah, the doorbell just went. I bet its Mrs Potts.

* * *

 **9.45 am, still in the bathroom  
Status: amused**

It _was_ Mrs Potts, and I know this because I stuck my head out the window and yelled down at her to apologise. I don't think she thought it was an apology for my demented brother's behaviour because she got huffy and stormed off, but I couldn't hear because the music is SO DARN LOUD.

I'm going to tell him off and get his friends the fuck away from here before the house explodes.

Oh dear Merlin what was that?

* * *

 **10.04 am, bedroom  
Status: no longer amused, angry instead**

THOSE BLOODY TOSSERS BROKE A VASE. JULIE'S VASE WHICH _WAS HER MOTHERS WHO IS NOW PARTED AND AWAY FROM US!_

 _Fuck!_

When I went down to yell at them to shut-the-hell-up-or-die I found a very large vase in pieces on the floor with music still blaring and nine sets of eyes staring at the floor, to me, then back again. I would say I was a good person, telling off kids who are really quite innocent in the wide aspect of things. I think I went mad, actually.

"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK IS THIS?"

It was quite a scene to see those aforementioned nine sets of eyes widen so much they could pop, and their faces going white to red to joyous to scared in a matter of moments. Some of them seemed delighted that they finally saw someone swear, not at all perturbed that I was yelling at them, but others seemed so shocked they were ready to poop themselves all over the floor and add to the mess that was already there.

"MICHAEL MCCAULDON YOU BETTER HAVE A FUCKING GOOD EXPLANATION FOR THIS!"

I used to think I was a very good kid who doesn't swear all that much, but obviously since being at Hogwarts, it's had a bad influence, because really, I swear like a sailor at the best of times.

"THIS IS YOUR MOTHER'S FUCKING VASE WHICH YOU'VE UNCEREMONIOUSLY BROKEN - FUCK KNOWS HOW, BY THE WAY AS IT _WAS STANDING HIGHER THAN YOU ARE!"_

Those who had looked delighted by my swearing were now looking slightly intimidated and scared, but I was too far gone to care. By the time I'd yelled myself silly, Mickey was already ushering them out of the house with warnings to not tell their parents about it. He then looked rather scared at being alone with me, which I hadn't thought was true.

I had planned it all out, you see. I was going to yell at Mickey for being stupid, get Dylan and his of-age-ness to _Reparo_ the hell out of the vase then sit down for a cup of tea.

But after shouting at Mickey I found Dylan wasn't in the house, and by prodding a wide-eyed brother, who was probably reeling from all the new swearwords he'd heard, I found Dylan was _not in the house._ And apparently, he wouldn't be back until Julie and Dad got home.

My luck, whilst vacationing in the Caribbean, sent me a postcard.

 _Good-luck, mental case._

We cleared up the vase and put it in a handy Tupperware box and now we've both hidden in our rooms because we're too scared to do anything else. Julie will flip her eccentric lid if she finds out her late mother's vase has been destroyed. Mickey knows it, I know it, Mona knows it, Stanley knows it.

WHERE IS DYLAN?

Drat that boy! And I have no essays to keep me occupied and now Quidditch because I'd feel too guilty! I should have kicked those kids out when they first came barging in!

Ooh, I know something –

* * *

 **4.55 pm, living room  
Status: freaked**

I occupied myself all day with my new Hogwarts books, which included a new Transfiguration textbook, a Potions textbook, Defence textbook, a stupid Divination textbook (me and Viv have decided to carry it on), Herbology (blah), Charms (good), and Care of Magical Creatures (Hagrid has given us the weirdest textbook ever).

Mickey's been unusually quiet and I think he's realised the implications of what he's done and how he shall pay. Maybe Julie won't let him go to Hogwarts? What if she doesn't let _me_ go to Hogwarts? She'll say that I was responsible for him, which really is totally unfair as I thought Dylan was here, and thereby going with the eldest-responsible-of-youngers thing, _he_ would be the irresponsible one. Everyone neglected to tell me that I was the bearer of all responsibility.

See, this is why I never made Prefect.

I think Dad was hoping, to cure my meddlesome ways and get me to knuckle down, but I was not the bearer of _that_ curse (though I hear the prefect bathroom is rather dashing and a good choice to go to if in need and if the password is known) and that my roommate, Kiki Parkes, is bearer of it.

Poor Kiki, she was always trying to not dock points off of me, Viv (who is actually a perfect student but because of me she's very tainted) Potter and Weasley, but she always had to because we were always up around the school when she _just happened_ to be patrolling (good move on our part, because she was more lenient than others, hem hem _Violet Vaisey_ hem hem).

Sadly, I've skimmed through all the textbooks by now, made Mickey and I lunch (I feel slightly bad yelling at him so viciously when I'm going to get slaughtered as well) to make us feel better and I've also cleaned the house.

Myself and Mickey have decided if everywhere is _clean_ Julie will not notice the missing vase until we're on our merry way to Hogwarts and shall not be harmed.

I do hope my luck shall return for just this part.

* * *

 **6.03 pm, kitchen eating dinner and writing VERY secretly  
Status: fed and watered until content**

HALLELUJAH! My luck had returned! Dylan came home before Julie and Dad and therefore we were able to persuade – bribe – him to repair the vase!

I've had to agree to play chess with him again tonight, and Mickey has to clean their room before they leave (which is a horrid job) but WE SHALL NOT BE SLAUGHTERED.

All is well in the McCauldon household. Unless Dylan decides to blackmail us.

I'm writing this whilst eating so it's an amazing achievement, really, because who could do that and not get caught? Yeah, try answering _that._

And on another bright note, all of Julie's cupcakes have gone so it means I do not have to worry about getting sick/poisoned/killed anytime soon! I asked Dad about it earlier.

"Dad, did you or did you not make the cupcakes-from-the-kitchen disappear?"

"I have no idea about the cupcakes, my dear, but on the subject of disappearing _things_ then yes, a few _things_ may have gone and never to return."

"Thanks, Dad."

We're on the same wavelength, really, me and my dad –

Oh bleeding _fuck._

Mickey's just asked what 'fuck' means.

ABORT ABORT ABORT

* * *

 **8.47 pm, living room  
Status: slightly happy**

I managed to act my way out of not knowing how Mickey came to know the f-word, by saying some youths down at the park must have said it when he visited it a few days ago. Now he's not allowed to go down to the park after four o'clock. Suck on that, brother.

I also gave Mickey my best glare of fuck-you-you're-dead-to-me whilst he merely smirked, but he was soon unsmiling when Julie got all horrified that he knew the word. That kid is rather sheltered and it's _very_ annoying. Me and Dyl weren't as sheltered and look how great we turned out!

Well.

Anyway.

Now we're watching a movie on the TV and it's pretty funny but I'm writing in this for some stupid reason.

* * *

 **Tuesday, August 31** **st** **  
3.04 pm, my bedroom, which is looking like a bomb has exploded in it. Seriously. No joke.  
Status: harassed and stressed.**

5 THINGS GRACIE NEEDS TO DO BY TOMORROW:

 **1)** Pack **.** Meaning: _pack._ Meaning: WRITE A LIST OF WHAT TO PACK. Seriously, they only give those lists out to first-years, and they're probably more likely to _know_ what to pack than a sixth-year like myself, so ple – _Mickey has a list! Hallelujah!_

 **2)** After packing **,** check that everything is in there, meaning clothes, robes, cauldron, books, new books, potion supplies, hat, winter clothes, boots etc.

 **3)** Close trunk.

 **4)** Find Mona and put her back in her cage.

 **5)** RELAX (and don't forget to pack diary at the top of the trunk so easily accessible)

* * *

 **4.18 pm, still in my bedroom, still looking like the bomb disposal squad needs to look in it.  
Status: still rather stressed.**

5 THINGS NOT TO DO WHEN PACKING:

 **1)** Fall asleep. It wastes a lot of time, and really, you have time to do that _at night when you're supposed to be sleeping._

 **2)** Take everything out of your trunk because you've forgotten what you've put in it. Write a list. (I like lists.)

 **3)** Shout at every member of the family (including Stanley) asking about the whereabouts of certain thing/s and/or objects.

 **4)** Keep writing in this. It wastes time.

 **5)** When brothers start jamming in their bedroom with guitars and drums, DO NOT JOIN THEM.

* * *

 **5.05 pm, actually downstairs, looking for socks  
Yadayadayada I'm stressed OK?**

1) Pack. Meaning: pack. Meaning: WRITE A LIST OF WHAT TO PACK. Seriously, they only give those lists out to first-years, and they're probably more likely to know what to pack than a sixth-year like myself, so ple – Mickey has a list! Hallelujah! **PARTLY-CHECK. I have got Mickey's list and I am half-way done.**

2) After packing, check that everything is in there, meaning clothes, robes, cauldron, books, new books, potion supplies, hat, winter clothes, boots etc. **I can't do this if I haven't done the first.**

3) Close trunk. **Ditto mitto matey**

4) Find Mona and put her back in her cage. **Problem: where the hell is my owl?**

5) RELAX (and don't forget to pack diary at the top of the trunk so easily accessible) **Kind of done. Even though I haven't finished.**

* * *

 **6.47 pm, landing**

I found Mona in the airing cupboard. The AIRING CUPBOARD. I have many questions for the owl of which is mine, and if it could speak I would ask her this:

a) Dearest Mona, why were you hiding in the airing cupboard, you're an owl?

b) Dearest Weirdest Mona, how did you get in said place

c) Mona – did you receive inside help?

d) You're a really weird owl and I know your secret desire to be a cat.

I bet it was Mickey. Or Julie. She's weird like that. She wants a cat as well.

Hmm.

I've also finished packing which is a very big achievement considering most of my stuff was scattered around the house/garden. And my broomstick was in Dylan and Mickey's room. Why? Who knows.

Anyway, I found Mona in the airing cupboard five minutes ago and though I have found my strange bird, she hasn't actually come out yet. I've left the door open and am sitting across from it, and really, that bird is very good at staring contests. I don't think she's leaving anytime soon.

Oh look Julie's com–

* * *

 **6.49 pm, landing**

SHE CLOSED THE DOOR! She _saw_ the bird, closed the door and said:

"Don't leave the door open, Gracie, all the heat will go out. And Mona doesn't like that."

And then she walked away!

I KNEW she was conspiring with my bird!

"What are you doing opposite the airing cupboard?"

Oh bother, that was Mickey. He's looking normal, however, as if it was a normal statement to come out with.

"Mona's in there and I'm waiting for her to come out."

"Right."

"Yeah."

"She's in there?"

"Yup."

"Not dead?"

"Nope. Julie shut the door. Heat was escaping."

"So she'll suffocate to death?"

"Plausible."

"Your bird is weird."

"I know. Do you think she escaped from a bird asylum?"

" _You're_ weird."

Thanks lil bro.

"You finished packing?"

"Yup."

"Packed your wand?"

SHIT.

* * *

 **Wednesday, September 1** **st** **  
8.03 am, my bedroom  
Status: cosy but hungry  
Weather: Clear with few clouds.**

Mickey got up at six o'clock this morning saying he was too excited to wait and he wanted to go to Hogwarts right that second.

And he thinks _I'm_ the weird one? He's now playing the drums to a) wake Dylan up (which I truly think he is, because who _wouldn't_ be up when your brother starts playing the drums not five feet from you?) b) annoy everyone into submission and c) persuade Dad to make pancakes (he'll do it to shut him up.)

…

…

DAD'S MAKING PANCAKES! YAAY!

* * *

 **10.36 am, Platform 9 and ¾, King's Cross Station  
Status: Bored.**

After Dad had made us pancakes and whatnot to go with it, there was the usual rush of closing all the trunks, checking for anything under the sofas (Julie and Mickey) checking they had their Prefect badge (Dylan) and making sure their wand was around (Me, I found it in my ponytail) there was the _second_ rush of putting it all in the car. It usually is a real mess on September 1st, but adding another person into it just makes it worse. We managed to get going by half past eight, because Mickey insisted on getting there on time.

Considering we only live around an hour and forty-five minutes away from London, it meant we got here at quarter past _ten. Forty-five_ minutes before the train leaves and a good thirty five before anyone sane and who I know turns up.

We obviously managed to get trolleys and Dad loaded our trunks onto the train and into compartments and such without much hassle, even though no-one was there yet (except probably the driver). Some people have arrived: two first-years like Mickey arrived six minutes ago and Mickey, Julie and Dad are chatting to them. A pretty girl who I think is a seventh-year Ravenclaw Prefect is talking to Dylan, who arrived like two minutes ago. I'm sat in the corner writing in this sitting on a bench.

"What's up McCauldon?"

Oh crap, _People._

* * *

 **11.23 am, the Hogwarts Express, just outside London.  
Status: normal.  
Weather: dry/cloudy/little bit of sunshine**

It was Jerry Cooper. He's in my year and a Hufflepuff and really, a face to _die_ for. He's so very pretty.

Boys don't like 'pretty' do they?

But he _is._ I can't say handsome, but Pretty is the right word. Pretty Jerry Cooper. Jerry Pretty Cooper.

Anyway, Jerry Cooper was standing in front of me, obviously looking down slightly bemusedly, but smiling all the same.

"Whatcha writing? Not homework?"

"'Course not," I replied, dutifully snapping my diary closed and shoving it in my pocket (I have big pockets). "Just my – er – journal-ly thing."

"You _still_ write in that?" Jerry Cooper asked, looking slightly impressed. Ah yes, he'd seen me writing in it before. "That's commitment."

"I have a lot of thoughts." Was my rather dry comment. Jerry took it as a joke and laughed. Well, works for some, I guess.

I stood up and noticed Mickey, Julie and Dad now had a group of first-years around them.

"Good summer?" I asked, delicately going into small talk as really, I'm rubbish when I talk to people.

"Not bad," said Jerry, shrugging. "But I'm here _really_ early, and saw you looking all bored as well, so I came over."

"Eurgh," I replied (great, I know). "My brother's starting, you see, and he wanted to get here early. But quarter past ten is too early, I think."

"You have another brother?" asked Jerry.

"Half-brother," I said, wondering why no one seemed to know this. Ah yes, it's because I never tell anyone anything.

"Oh," said Jerry. "Hoping he'll make Gryffindor with you?"

"Not particularly," I replied dryly. "Do you want him in Hufflepuff?"

"Can't say it would be bad," laughed Jerry. "McCauldons' have great humour, you see."

I grinned at that. Good humour? _Me?_

It wasn't until ten to eleven when the station began to get totally packed. Jerry had been hailed by his mates and I'd wandered over to Julie and Dad to say goodbye. Once I had, I spotted the Potter/Weasley clan and wasn't surprised to see James and Fred trying to hex each other. Trying to avoid them at all costs, I decided to go back to my carriage and await Vivian's arrival.

Obviously nothing goes smoothly as when I walked to the train door someone came blasting out at the same time and very nearly knocked me flat.

Blinking slightly, I looked up and saw a person I really didn't want to see in front of me.

Rose Weasley.

God, how I _hate_ Rose Weasley.

Rose Weasley, the daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who are practically saints in the Wizarding World and she _revels_ in the fact she's famous. Well, her parents are famous. She's famous at Hogwarts for being an utter slag.

Okay. Maybe she's _not_ a complete slag but she could be. She's famous for having famous parents and being/looking perfect even though she's _not._ She's an utter über bitch.

Calm down Gracie.

Hem hem.

Rose Weasley, daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, came into my life when I was in my second-year of Hogwarts. She was small(er than me, YES) and had a lot of red bushy hair that was really annoying. She seemed to think that she was going to be perfect, and everyone was _waiting_ for her to be perfect. She was sorted like a good little girl into Gryffindor and decided to be the second Hermione Granger. Little did she know she was actually pretty stupid and had no common sense, and she was shocked when she was nowhere near the top of any of her classes. She actually pretended she _had_ and throughout her first year she had this whole aura of self-righteousness that honestly, half of the population loved and the other hated. _Then,_ coming back in her second-year she realised there was no point in her trying so she became the bitchiest girl on the planet and acted twice her age and still pretended she was top of her class to her parents.

This is why her mother and father are still so proud of her, because they don't know that she wears her skirts like a belt, her shirt outrageously small (though she annoyingly does have the chest – how come someone younger than me has bigger breasts? What gives?) and her hair is no longer annoyingly bushy. It's _sexily_ bushy. She's been with practically everyone in her year who doesn't hate her and who isn't family, and in my year _and_ the year above. See? S.L.A.G.

We really do not get on. It's probably the fact that I forwardly show my distaste for her and her ways when no one else does, or the fact we just don't click. Vivian has never shown a liking to her either and always has a bad comment to say about her, which always makes me in a better mood.

AND she _still pretends she's so innocent!_ She pretends she's so lovely and kind and clever when she's HORRIBLE, MANIPULATIVE AND BITCHY. But because she acts like this, whenever we have a tiff in the common room, _she_ comes off looking like the victim.

Yes. Mean old Gracie McCauldon picking on Ron and Hermione's daughter.

So anyway, I bumped into the bitch herself (whose skirt was longer than usual because adult family members were still around) and find her glaring at _me._

"Watch where you're going McCauldon," she snapped. "Are you blind?"

"Are you dumb?" I shot back. "Who careens out a train door when there are hundreds of people on the platform? Careful, Weasley, your big head might get stuck in it one day."

She scowled at me through her make-up and shook herself, as if to rid herself of Grace-germs.

"What _ever,"_ she said, and she flounced off.

Clever. Really witty.

I was annoyed myself by then, so I rather angrily got onto the train and accidentally pushed past a first-year, who looked completely terrified. See, this is why I'm not Prefect. Prefects don't push past first-years because of run ins with Rose Weasley (who I hope to Merlin has not been made a Prefect, or I may have to commit).

I managed to make it into my compartment without killing anyone and sat by the window, watching Rose saunter back to her family.

Their family is so big they could fit themselves on an entire carriage. Seriously, at one point I think every year had some sort of relation to the Weasley's or Potter's and I think it could be the same now.

I waited patiently for five minutes before everyone started teeming onto the train in a harassed sort of way as the whistle was blown. Not two seconds later, my best friend Vivian Abercrombie bursts through the door.

Somehow she's tanned over the summer and now her blonde hair stands out slightly because of it. It's nicely curly too, and though Viv complains, she'd be very sorry indeed if she didn't have her curls.

"Gracie!" she went, squealing like she usually does and I had to go hug her. "Still writing that thing? Well I suppose you have to write your insane thoughts down somewhere."

There's nothing like a supportive friend.

I hadn't noticed that Vivian's brother, Phineas, was also with her. I let go of Vivian and held out my hand. Phineas shook it formally.

I love Phineas. He's utterly hilarious. As a thirteen-year-old third-year Ravenclaw with huge spectacles and a constant serious expression, what's not to like? I don't think he's ever made a joke, rarely smiles but somehow I get on with him rather well, to the annoyance of Viv, who thinks he's weird and strange.

He's obsessed with muggles science magazines and Astronomy and numbers. When he wants to relax he does maths sums to take his mind off things.

"Good morning, Grace," Phineas' first words were. "Can we not do small talk? My summer blew, your summer blew, etcetera etcetera. Now, have you read the latest edition of _Space Masters?_ It's so interesting –"

"Phin," interrupted Vivian. "if you're sitting with us I said do not say anything about _Space Masters_ or – or _Galaxy Defenders_ or whatnot –"

"Have you watched _Star Wars?"_ Phineas whispered to me as Vivian started talking about all the stuff Phineas was into.

I laughed and returned to where I was sitting. Phineas had already retrieved _Space Masters_ from his bag and was skimming through it to obviously find the page he wanted to show me. Vivian sat opposite and primly put her legs up on the chair.

"How _was_ your summer, thought, Gracie?" asked Vivian. "Not too boring, I hope?"

"Not really," I said. Phineas had forgotten to show me the page because he was now engrossed in another one.

"Good," said Viv.

And that's where we are now. I think Vivian's still talking about something, and Phineas is still reading and I'm still writing in here. Oops.

* * *

 **2.25 pm, Hogwarts Express, Just Past York**

Vivian went to the bathroom two hours ago. After I'd explained my run-in with Rose-the-slag, which she didn't comment on, she muttered something about the toilet and left.

Is she hiding something?

She's never done that before.

5 THINGS VIVIAN COULD CURRENTLY BE DOING:

 **1)** Actually in the bathroom. There could have been a very, very long queue.

 **2)** Unconscious. She could have fallen over and hit her head.

 **3)** Hiding. She may have muttered 'count to ten' and is currently waiting for me to find her in a weird game of hide-and-seek.

 **4)** Battling demons.

 **5)** Has been kidnapped.

Phineas couldn't give less of a shit because he's still reading his magazines.

Oh wow, she's back.

* * *

 **2.37 pm**

 _Hm._

"Where've you been?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you were going to the bathroom."

"So? I went to the bathroom?"

"Mmhmm, and was it a nice stay?"

"What are you talking about Gracie?"

"You were in there for _two hours."_

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"I saw some people."

"What kind of people?"

"Does it matter?" [She sounds exasperated]

"Kind of. Yeah. You took _two hours."_

"We've established this. I bumped into general people … Spencer Jennings. Uhmm, Jerry Cooper … RoadshuWejsky."

"Huh?"

"RoseWeasley."

 _"_ _Rose Weasley?"_

"Yeah, her."

"You mean, I bumped into her accidently, cursed her and walked off?"

"No … not exactly."

I raised an eyebrow at her.

Vivian looked frustrated. "Listen, she's not that bad! Why don't you give her a chance? She's a Prefect this year too."

Ahh drat. There's to hoping anyway.

"How do you even … like _know_ her?"

"Well, we went to Cornwall for a little break …" Vivian started. "And, well her family were there with her in the house over the hill."

"How much family?" this is a question to always ask.

"Just her, her brother Hugo – you know him?" of course I know _Hugo Weasley._ He's the most hilarious kid on the planet. "and their parents."

"And you just got talking?" I asked, quite disbelievingly, I have to admit.

"Well, she's actually rather nice, you know," said Vivian. "We like similar things – I mean, Gracie – we went to _parties_ and boys –"

"Her parents let her?"

"Well we said we doing little visits to museums and things …" Vivian said. She actually seemed slightly sorry.

"Vivian, you do know this is the same person who I've hated since she's arrived? She whacked into me at the platform, went all snarky as if it was _my_ fault and flounced off? How am I meant to give her a 'try'?"

"Apologise?" suggested Vivian.

"For _what?"_ I said, rather angrily and hurt and emotional all at once.

Vivian seemed to struggle for words. "I really want to be her friend!"

"What _ever,_ " I said [I am repulsed by my choice of words, most commonly spewing out of Rose Weasley's mouth]. And I regrettably left Phineas with his sister as I went off to find non-existent friends.

* * *

 **4.03pm. I don't know, but we're definitely still on the train. Unless we got there and I am travelling back to London?**

After not finding the non-existent friends I went to the next best place: the end of the train where there's a storage room. Genius. Except, it's really uncomfortable and my back is very stiff. And also, a box is leaking some gunky stuff which smells vile.

I have been in here for an hour and a half. I have drawn some very excellent pictures, found a chocolate frog stash in a box (it's not stealing if I'm in grand need for food and I can't be bothered to move) and been bored stiff. I was thinking about joining Dylan but realised half-way to his compartment that I really hate his friends. And I am never sitting with Mickey.

How could Vivian do this to me? What a traitor!

And why now? Why can't it be in five years when we've probably lost touch and I don't care anymore?

What a great start to the year!

* * *

 **4.28pm, Hogwarts Express. Storage Room.**

GUESS WHO TURNED UP?

The one, the only, Phineas Abercrombie!

He came in, natural as anything, hopped on a box with his magazine – the next copy of _Space Masters –_ and has been there ever since. He didn't even say anything.

* * *

 **4.34pm.**

See, it's not like I don't want Viv to have other friends. I'm happy with that. I mean, I have Kiki Parkes [that may be one sided, but who's counting?] and I guess the people on the Quidditch Team [minus Fred and James]. And Phineas, obviously.

But I think it's rather reasonable for me to be pissed with her. I've been talking about this girl for four years – nearly five – about what a bitch she was, and Vivian _always_ agreed with me!

* * *

 **4.37pm.**

Phineas actually had a good insight.

"Say, Phineas," I said.

"Yes?"

"Do you think I reacted correctly to Vivian's news?"

"As correctly as ever," replied Phineas. Huh? "I mean, she has trodden the rules of friendship rather harshly, hasn't she? By going behind your back and befriending your nemesis? And I know for a fact that Rose Weasley is not a nice person."

"How come?"

"She disliked the fact that Hugo was beating her in academics – which wasn't exactly hard – and so she swapped their reports so their parents were disappointed with Hugo for the entire summer."

"She did that?" I said. SEE? HORRIBLE PERSON.

"Grace, it depends how you view it. You can ignore the fact Vivian and Rose have befriended each other and continue being best friends, or drop her and become – not to be mean – rather lonely."

Two very good points. I have been friends with Viv for five years, and should I really stop all that because of Rose Weasley? I think not!

"Good chat, Phin," I replied.

* * *

 **5.45pm. Hogwarts Express.  
Status: EURGH.**

I tried. I tried I tried I tried. I TRIED.

* * *

 **5.47pm.**

OK. After my little chat with Phineas (we talked about _Space Masters_ ) I decided to go find Vivian and sit with her. Phineas seemed rather happy by this, and he said his legs were so numb he didn't think he could walk. I apologised, but he said that Vivian had told him to find me. Sweet.

Anyway, I deposited Phineas at one of the compartments where all the people who read _Space Masters_ were. Literally, it was an entire compartment of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors and Slytherins, ranging from second- to fifth- year, all reading the same comic. Phineas immediately was at home with his friends, so I left him to it and walked back to my compartment.

AND ROSE WEASLEY WAS SAT ON MY SEAT.

MY chair. MY trunk was in the rack above. AND she was with her other friend, Courtney Miller. Just before I thought it could get any worse, they were eating chocolate frogs with Vivian.

I think I must have shocked them, because when I slammed open the door there were three shrieks and frogs went flying over the room. One ended up in Courtney's hair, which was an added bonus.

"Gracie!" said Vivian, flicking a frog off the seat next to her and beaming. "You're back."

"Yes," I said [whilst eyeing the two girls opposite.]

"Phineas found you?"

I nodded.

"Erm, well, Gracie, this is Courtney Miller –"

Courtney's smile was so strange I did not bother to smile back. It was as if she was literally refraining from a growl.

But I guess we aren't exactly on good terms. I may have spilt soup all over her brand new dress when I was hurriedly trying to bring food up to our dorm, because Viv had just broken up with Eric Mason and was in our bedroom bed ridden with a broken heart. And it was tomato soup on a white dress. Which is the number one reason why you should never where white around the table.

"And you know Rose."

Rose smiled. "How's Sam Bradley?" she asked coolly.

Wow. Utter bitch.

Sam Bradley is a Ravenclaw. Last year I may have harboured a rather large crush on him, mainly because I sat next to him in Potions. One day I decided tell Vivian of my feelings – they were very unusual – and unwittingly did it in the Gryffindor common room. Thus, Rose's friend (I don't know her name) overheard, told Rose, who had a liking for him too, who told Sam I was in love with him.

He moved seats and I was sat by myself the rest of the year, but everyone knew.

Apparently not Vivian, though, because she just looked confused.

"I wouldn't know," I snapped back. "Haven't seen him since March."

"Too bad," said Rose.

"We were just talking about the new Heads," said Vivian after there was a tense pause, in which Rose and I did not remove eye contact.

"I don't know who it is," I replied.

"Oh, it's Elizabeth Fleet from Hufflepuff – isn't she friends with your cousin, Rose? Dominique?"

"No, Lucy," replied Rose. "Dominique doesn't go for people like Elizabeth."

I had sat down by this time and was staring into the corridor.

"And there's Kyle Zabini from Ravenclaw," continued Vivian.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Courtney.

Eurgh.

By the time the three of them had gotten through the entire seventh-year boy selection – _including Dylan,_ which was very, very bad because Vivian and Courtney both stated he was a 'good catch' but Rose remained silent – and some of mine and Viv's year, it was an hour later and I started writing in this.

I think it must be a sign of me giving up, because when I was listening Vivian included me, but now she looks as though she ate a bogey flavour Bertie Bean and hasn't spoken to me since.

I was very good and participated, but really, the talking just got a _little_ too much for my liking. And too Rose Weasleyish.

Right now, I think I might go find Phineas again and make him sit in the storage compartment until we arrive at Hogsmeade.

* * *

 **6.30pm – FIVE MINUTES UNTIL ARRIVAL!**

I didn't get Phineas [because when I excused myself and went to find him, he was sat rather comfortably in the middle of the compartment talking about something rather avidly. It was too sweet to spoil.]

And so I walked aimlessly down the train in search of something to distract me.

And that distraction walked head-long into me.

Well.

I went headlong into _him_ but that doesn't matter.

"Oh, hullo Gracie," said Albus Potter, after the usual yelps of pain.

"Hi, Albus," I replied.

I do like Albus Potter. He's in Rose's year, so the year below myself, and looks exactly like his Dad [minus the glasses, which James has inherited]. And we've shared one or two laughs over is unfortunate name 'Albus Severus' whilst his brother got two fairly normal ones, as did his sister. This is why people call him 'Al' instead.

"Nice summer?"

I shrugged in reply, but Albus seemed to understand.

"We went to Egypt," he said. "My Mum went there years ago, and Uncle Bill worked there too. Look at this."

He picked up something from the floor which he'd dropped when we'd collided and held it in his palm. It was a tiny sphinx, golden and moving around on his palm.

"It's supposed to give you luck," said Albus, rolling his eyes. "I don't believe it, but Lily likes that sort of thing."

"I'd love to go somewhere like that," I said. "Furthest we've been is France, because Julie wanted to go camping like she did when she was younger. It rained the whole time."

"Mum and Dad tried to do that once," said Albus, scrunching his nose up. "We ended up staying in a hotel in the middle of nowhere."

"That sounds like fun," I said sarcastically.

"It really wasn't," said Albus. "Because I was originally with James, meaning we nearly burnt the room down, and then Dad moved me into Lily's room and all she was doing was singing to her favourite musical soundtracks until two in the morning."

I laughed. "Dylan and my other brother Mickey share a bedroom too –" Them sharing is a mess sometimes, considering Mickey's eleven and Dylan's seventeen. "- and they have a lot of musical instruments."

"Sounds great," Albus grinned. "What're you doing down here anyway? Where's Vivian?"

"Oh, she's sat with your cousin."

"Which one?"

"Rose."

"Oh," said Albus, frowning. "And that's bad because you hate each other, right?"

"Exactly," I replied.

"Well, you can come sit in our compartment if you like," he said.

The Weasley-Potter clan have a compartment they seemingly reserve for all the cousins who don't sit with their friends – but most of them are friends with each other anyway, because of their ages. Today, when I accepted, there was Albus' best friend Louis Weasley, Lucy Weasley – Elizabeth Fleet's friend – and Dominique Weasley, Louis' older sister.

Dominique Weasley is the coolest Hufflepuff ever. Apparently she persuaded the Sorting Hat that she didn't want Gryffindor, got put in Hufflepuff instead and completely flipped when Lucy got sorted into the same place. She likes being different. I don't really understand how she got put into Hufflepuff but she seems happy enough. Lucy isn't completely a _stereotypical_ Hufflepuff either. She does protests about saving whales and goes to Luna Lovegood's – celebrated war hero – house in the holidays and goes nature hunting.

"Hey, Cauldy," saluted Louis as I walked in. I saluted back.

"Aren't you meant to be sitting with Abercrombie the bitch?" asked Dominique.

Dominique doesn't like Vivian. She doesn't like many people, actually. I think her favourite person is Lily. And I think that's mainly because Lily did a double middle finger at her family in first-year and got sorted into Slytherin. James Potter was mad for a month about that, and the Gryffindor common room was a death trap for the first-, second- and third-years who unsuspectingly pissed him off. Dominique was the one to tell him to get over himself.

"Dom, what have we talked about?" said Louis, who was reading _Transfiguration Today_ with his feet propped up. "Don't be a bitch to people."

"I'm not being a bitch to Grace though am I? I'm being a bitch to her friend – who isn't even present," Dominique retorted.

Louis rolled his eyes and flipped a page in his magazine. He looked over the top of it. "You alright though McCauldon?"

"Sure," I said, flopping down next to him. Albus took a seat next to Dominique, buffing up her nails. "Excited for O.W.L year?"

"As I ever will," said Louis solemnly. "I am truly grateful at this point that Aunt Hermione is not my mother."

"Like Rose will actually do well on them," snorted Albus.

Another plus: Albus isn't too keen on Rose either. Neither is Dominique, but she doesn't really count.

"Don't be mean, Dom," Louis said, who hadn't looked up.

"What the – Lou, that was _Albus,"_ Dominique scowled. "Not every snarky comment comes from me, you know."

"On a scale of one to ten, how likely do you think Dad will let me go to South America to study rainforest creatures?" piped up Lucy.

"Minus fifty," replied Dominique.

This lovely witty chat lasted until around quarter past six when everyone, including myself, remembered that we couldn't waltz into the Great Hall in our muggle clothes. So I, rather unfortunately, had to take a leave, as Dominique started pulling out robes from her trunk and ordering Albus and Louis out.

"See you at the feast?" Louis questioned me as we skedaddled out of the compartment before Dominique threw us bodily out.

"Hopefully," I said, giving them both a salute.

Navigating through the corridors at this time is always difficult. First-years are _always_ bouncing around and the other years are all trying to find spaces to get their robes on.

Only Vivian was in our compartment when I returned.

"Gracie, please don't be angry at me," said Vivian. "I didn't mean – look, I forgot myself OK? I was being selfish and forgot that you hate her and she hates you. Forgive?"

I rolled me eyes. "Sure."

"They've gone, anyways, Courtney was driving me nuts, to be honest. I don't see how Rose can stand her."

"Mmhmm," I had replied, non-committedly, pulling my robes on. "Viv, you do remember the whole Sam Bradley incident last year, don't you?"

Vivian looked confused.

"No?"

"Remember how I liked him?"

"Oh, of course!" said Vivian, beaming.

"And how Rose overheard and told him that I wanted to marry him?"

"Sorry," Vivian seemed to apologise in advance. "I don't remember."

"Well, it's one of the reasons why I don't like her," I sighed. "Rose liked him too, and when she told him I was crazy basically, he moved seats in Potions."

"You were on your own for a while, weren't you? It's such a pain Professor Constantine sets a seating arrangement, isn't it?"

Excuse me, stick to the subject, please. Today it is delving into my sorrows. Tomorrow is my self-centeredness.


	3. The One with Double Divination

**A/N** Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/followed or even viewed this story so far. Here is chapter three - please leave a review about what you think! :) They help really boost me into writing xxx

 **CHAPTER THREE**

 **THE ONE WITH DOUBLE DIVINATION**

 **9.15. Gryffindor Girls' Dormitory  
Status: stuffed.  
Weather: It's dark but suspiciously cloudy. **

There are many reasons why the Great Hall is a disastrous place to be:

a) There are too many people. Seriously. THOUSANDS of people I don't know/like/care about.

b) Rose Weasley is among them (Vivian suggested that I was obsessing over her in the carriage on the way up – OBESSESING? ME? I think not!)

c) There's never much room on the tables.

d) James Potter and Fred Weasley.

Somehow we managed to sit near them, mainly because I saw Albus and Louis and was immediately all "Hurrah, friends!" and didn't look around them to see who they were with. And then somehow sitting next to Fred. Vivian seemed to have swallowed a lemon by this time and sat gingerly down next to James, who scooted slightly away as though she was diseased.

"Good evening, Gracie-Lacey," said Fred, beaming.

"Hello," I replied cautiously. It was common knowledge that something usually happened at the start-of-term feast with those two.

"Nice weather," he said, gesturing to the ceiling. It was, in fact [not like it is now], clear and starry.

"Indeed," I replied.

Luckily for me, Professor Longbottom – _another_ celebrated war-hero, and friends with the Potters and Weasleys, meaning they all called him 'Uncle Nev' even when all the other Professors told them not to – came in with the first-years.

"Look at them all," said James. "Aren't they small?"

"Oh yeah," replied Fred. "Just as small as our dear Gracie here."

I punched him in the arm, if you're wondering.

Mickey was in the middle of the crowd, easily picked out because he was literally shaking in his shoes. Poor kid. Maybe I should have checked up on him during the train ride? I think I am a rather bad sister, in all honesty.

"Look, Freddie, there's Roxanne," said James.

Huh?

"You have a sister?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Indeed I do," replied Fred. "She's rather upset no other cousins are with her, you know. I think she's cursed Mum and Dad for having her so late."

"Lorcan and Lysander are only six," said James. I do not know who these people are.

"Yeah, but they'll still have each other, won't they?"

I'm not going to bore you with the rest of their conversation, the Sorting Hat song [which I don't remember anyway] nor the other names that were called.

Mickey got put into Hufflepuff.

Fred and James thought this was extremely funny until I told them Dominique was in Hufflepuff and she and I were on good terms. Then Fred pointed out Teddy Lupin was a Hufflepuff too.

Roxanne – who has the most amazing curly hair, by the way (I'm very jealous) – got put into Gryffindor. Fred was very pleased with this.

How do I know?

Because Fred got so excited he pulled out a _Weasley's Whiz-Bang:_ Lion edition and set it off. George Weasley created Lion, Snake, Badger and Eagle editions of the famous Whiz-Bang specifically for his children and nieces and nephews to set off when one of them got sorted into a house (Lily never got one because James had purchased a Lion one and didn't have the chance to use it). Literally, it has happened ever since their creation. Teddy Lupin was the first to use it, when Dominique and Lucy were sorted.

Anyway, Whiz-Bangs are notoriously huge, which is something I KNOW and everyone KNOWS. However, I do NOT usually sit near Fred/James/any other members which means I forgot the intensity and ended up, along with Fred, sprawled onto the floor after he'd set it off.

"Dammit Fred," I groaned.

"Oops," said Fred.

Then Professor Longbottom came along and told us to get off the floor, like it had been our choice to do so.

"Sorry, Professor," I said whilst glaring at Fred, who was brushing himself off as if he'd just taken a gentle tumble.

"I know it was Fred, Miss McCauldon," said Longbottom with a sigh.

"Innocent until proven guilty," said Fred with a grin.

"So if I look in your bag there won't be a collection of other editions of fireworks?"

"Yup," Fred popped the 'p'. He was very confident because James was, at that time, removing all of Fred's fireworks and putting them into _his_ bag, whilst Viv seemed to be struggling to speak up about it. It wasn't until I had sat back down and the feast had started that it came apparent that James had placed a silencing charm on her to stop her from snitching. Though Viv is my best friend, it's not cool to snitch on people.

Moving on, the feast was a pleasant surprise, and it was actually rather funny to be sitting with James and Fred and Albus and Louis. Because the latter two are just as funny as the former two, but I prefer them better.

Ha.

Oh, and also, as a side-note, Lily Potter was sitting with Scorpius Malfoy, who's in Al's year, and James looked PISSED.

Ha.

And also, Katie Hooper, from my dorm, told us just now that her brother's best friend in the year above has knocked some girl up in Hufflepuff. It's going to be either Liberty Dodworth or Robyn Bones because Dominique, Lucy and Elizabeth Fleet are probably not the ones that are.

If you're interested, Katie went to Greece this summer, Kiki Parkes went to Hawaii and Theresa Lynn went to Tokyo. And obviously Vivian went to Italy.

Oh yeah and Albus and James went to Egypt.

Why is MY life so horribly dull? I had to stay at HOME all summer watching Mikey and watching re-runs of _Deal or No Deal._

Even that poor knocked up girl in Hufflepuff has been having a better time than me.

Well, before she found out anyways.

Anyway, Theresa is still talking about her trip to Tokyo, which sounded pretty cool. She's rather weird, Theresa, and she plays the accordion. She likes to practise in our dormitory after dinner (I'd personally want to do it before) and it means that unless you want to either listen to it or have a headache trying not to, the rest of us are always in the common room to give her some 'peace'.

* * *

 **10.34pm**

I've told Vivian about the whole Sam-Rose-Myself incident in more detail, because I am slightly pissed she hasn't remembered – I mean, it was scarring.

"Oh Gracie," she replied after my sorrows were unleashed. "We were all so immature back then."

Back then? It's not even been a year, for Pete's Sake!

* * *

 **Thursday, September 2** **nd** **  
7.32am. Dorm.**

Eurrrrrrrrrhghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

* * *

 **7.46am**

Kiki woke us up at 7.00. it's now quarter to eight. Vivian's in the shower, Kiki and Katie have already showered and Theresa's already gone to breakfast because she was that hungry. I am still in bed. First period doesn't start till nine, right?

* * *

 **7.56am.**

Kiki reminded me that we still had to get our timetables and sort it out with Professor Longbottom. Darn it. Also, Viv's still in the shower and I've actually got dressed. Well, I'm sitting on my bed in my school skirt and shirt but I'm still rummaging around to find my shoes and tie and robes.

* * *

 **8.01am  
Weather: clear.**

Robes? _Check.  
_ Tie? _Check.  
_ Shoes? _Wearing my black buckled shoes because I've misplaced my school ones. Already._ But my buckled shoes are comfortable, even if they're kinda chunky.

* * *

 **8.24am, Great Hall, Gryffindor Table.**

We're sitting at the near-end of the table, because I think Vivian's scared that I'll go waltzing up to James and Fred like I accidently did yesterday.

We got here like ten minutes ago, and Vivian's complaining that her hair is still wet. Which is stupid because she had a wand and we learnt the drying spell a long time ago.

I tell her this.

Her response, though snarky, is grateful because her blonde hair is now 'perfection'.

Mine, however, is _not._ It's rumpled because I left it in a ponytail last night and it now has a weird dent in the middle of it. And it's scruffy anyways so all in all, Vivian's faring a lot better than I am.

Good news: House elves have served pancakes for breakfast.

* * *

 **8.43am, Great Hall.**

Professor Longbottom came around to the sixth-years and had to talk to us about our new timetables. Vivian's was done very quickly because she's no problem and Longbottom has nothing to criticise about her. Apart from the fact she's not that clever.

However, I only found out, when Longbottom had passed me onto doing Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Divination, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures he dropped the bombshell on me that Dad had written to him.

Apparently he didn't trust me enough to say I wanted to Herbology this year.

Longbottom, however, didn't seem care about this letter. This is how our conversation went:

Me: I'd also like to continue with Herbology, please.  
Longbottom: Yes, your dad sent me a letter saying he wishes you to.  
M: He doesn't think I'm trustworthy, Professor.  
L: Is that because you hate Herbology?  
M: Most probably.  
L: Well, Grace, the trouble is, you're not that good at Herbology.  
[Vivian snorts into her breakfast]  
M: Thank you, Professor. It's appreciated.  
L: No mean to offend, but you have no passion for it – and that's a big thing with subjects. You wouldn't want to have a job translating Runes if you didn't like Ancient Runes, would you?  
M: I dropped Ancient Runes. It was dull.  
[Sigh from Longbottom at this point]  
L: Look, Gracie, you don't have to take it if you don't _want_ to. It's not an obligation anymore – you have five N.E.W.T subjects already.  
M: I kind of need Herbology, Professor.  
L: I didn't need Transfiguration, and I've got the job I wanted.  
M: You're a Herbology Professor. You can just ask Professor Tugwood.  
[Another sigh from Longbottom]  
L: That's not the point, Gracie.

In the end, Longbottom relented, but I now have to 'show a passion' and actually do the homework or he's kicking me off the course.

There you go Papa; your wish has been granted.

* * *

 **9.20am, Gryffindor Common Room.**

I have a free period before Potions. The thing is, I have nothing to _do_ before Potions because it's the first day of the new school year and Vivian's in Muggle Studies class. I didn't take Muggle Studies because I could just get the information from Julie. Dylan, however, took this to his advantage and got an 'O' in Muggle Studies because he wrote home to Julie asking about all these questions for three years until he dropped it after O. . I, on the other hand, took Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. I also took Ancient Runes but dropped that like a hot potato.

And because I am by myself, I'm debating whether I'm friends with Kiki and Katie, and if so, could I go sit with them at their table?

Hm.

* * *

 **9.31am, same place [a window seat in the G Common Room]**

This is my schedule today:

9.00-10.00 – Free  
10.05-11.05 – Potions  
11.10-11.25 – Break  
11.25-12.25 – Charms  
12.30-1.30 – Free  
1.30-2.15 – Lunch  
2.15-4.35 – Double Divination [with a break in between]

All in all, it's not that bad of a day. Better than Wednesday which is when the dreaded double Herbology is. Why did I say that I'd try?

* * *

 **9.52am**

I've taken to skimming through my Herbology textbook, because I feel sorry for Professor Longbottom. I mean, I think he's losing his mind trying to help me with my life. So I'm already making notes to get me through this year. And it'll impress ol' Longbottom as well.

 _Dung uses within the Herbology Area.  
_ notes by Grace McCauldon

 _MOONCALF DUNG: this type of dung can only be harvested during the full moon when the Mooncalf emerges. When collected (before sunrise) it shall have the properties to make any magical plant to grow faster and stronger. It is illegal to take mooncalf dung from a wizard's land without his/her permission. The Sopophorous plant is restricted to gloomy marshland to grow, and it will most probably sprout if spread by mooncalf dung._

You'd think dung would at least have some exciting or funny qualities. But no, you can get prosecuted if you steal it from another person. Eurgh.

* * *

 **9.54am**

I have Potions in like nine minutes, and the hallways are going to be a NIGHTMARE. SHIT. Professor Constantine doesn't like it when you're late – especially on the first day, and in my case, first lesson.

* * *

 **10.08am. The Dungeons.**

Made it with a minute spare. Quidditch certainly pays off, I can tell you. Professor Constantine is currently telling us the seating plan whilst we all stand at the back. Most of us have taken Potions on, but it's still a small enough number for all houses to be slumped in together.

I hope -

* * *

 **10.12am. Potions.**

JAMES POTTER.

I WAS HOPING FOR KATIE OR SOME OF THE DUDES FROM RAVENCLAW (they're clever). Like, there was more of a chance for me to be placed next to someone from a different house than next to a Gryffindor (I mean, the majority of us did continue with Potions, but there are three other house to contend for) EURGH.

* * *

 **10.16. Potions.**

James has just asked if I was going to be listening to Professor Constantine at all this morning and if I was, instead, going to write in here. I told him to bugger off.

* * *

 **10.21. Potions.**

Seriously, what is Professor Constantine wittering on about? I mean, I am fond of potions, but she is STILL talking about what Potions will be like this year. Apparently, just because we have no important exams, our lessons won't be any easier. Thank you, Professor.

* * *

 **10.43. Still in Potions.**

OK, so straight after her little pep talk where half the class was dozing already, Professor Constantine has decided to warm up the year for a little Cure for Boils potion. She also says that those that a good enough can be given to Madam Geraldine for her and Madam Longbottom's supplies.

Madam Geraldine is one of Madam Huntz's, the librarian, good friends and often joins her on her expeditions to get drunk in Hogsmeade, both only speaking French or German [or Spanish?] when they are together.

Madam Longbottom is much nicer. She is Professor Longbottom's wife and only started working in the Hospital Wing like two years ago. She used to own the Leaky Cauldron and the two of them lived above a pub, which was really cool, but now they live in Hogsmeade.

This Cure for Boils thing was done in partners, so obviously, being next to James now, I had to go with him. I've decided to accept this, because if Vivian can befriend my worst enemy, I can certainly befriend hers. Not that this is making a good relationship between me and or anything.

We're pretty much finished, and we've been waiting for it to brew for like twenty minutes now. Seriously, we went through the first few steps in like five minutes. We are very good team, I feel. I think James must have got an O in his potions too because he is just as good as –

* * *

 **10.52.**

OK, so James looked over just as I wrote that, so he is now grinning to himself whilst adding the horned slugs into the potion. Damn him and his nosy ways.

* * *

 **11.15. Courtyard.**

Our potion was a complete success, even though James' head is now bigger than anything because I may have written down in here that he's good at it. Gah. Anyways, Professor Constantine congratulated us and now I'm sitting outside in the courtyard with Theresa because I don't know where Vivian is and Theresa is too busy reading her book about accordion songs to bother me. Meaning I can write in this in piece but still have the company of Theresa and not look like a loser.

Theresa has already told me that she's very happy with all these new free periods because it means she can practise her accordion. I asked her if it meant she was no longer practising after dinner, but she said no, it means I can practise _more._

Vivian, who is firm believer that Theresa's accordion should be split down the middle and thrown out the window, is going to be very pleased to hear this, considering she doesn't take Charms anymore either. So they can share their free period together listening to Theresa's music. I, however, quite like it, especially when she plays French songs – like _Ambiance Musettienne_ or something. But that's personal preference, I certainly don't enjoy hearing the practises when sometimes a lot of things go wrong and the accordion just seems to screech. Especially in first-year when she wasn't very good because the accordion was like the same size as her. She's improved greatly, I can tell you.

* * *

 **11.35. Charms.**

Professor Danvers has started the year by giving us a rundown of what he was up to in the summer – basically him and his boyfriend went to all of the national holidays/events/festivals etc. that were on. EVERY SINGLE ONE. And he's telling us now that he's still trying to get Headmaster Bones to let him have the day off on Monday so that he can go to America for this Labour Day thingy.

Now Rachael Nutley, the Hufflepuff prefect, whose mother is American, has said that Professor Danvers can't wear white on Tuesday, because you can't wear white the day after Labour Day.

Now there's a massive debate on whether a) this is true b) why and c) what even is Labour Day?

Karl Thomas (James & Fred's friend) seems to think he has all the answers because he went to San Francisco this summer and apparently 'knows what's goin' on' over there. And Rachael is in a huge argument with Alexander Baddock from Slytherin about whether she is right or not (considering her mother went to Ilvermorny School, I'm with Rachael. Not that I'm saying anything, because I'm writing in this).

I assume Professor Danvers has forgotten he teaches Charms because he's in a conversation with Violet Vaisey about May Day and how he's always wished to dance the Maypole.

* * *

 **11.54am, Charms.**

Well, Danvers realised he was meant to teach a lesson so he's given us the chance to read through the first few chapters of the new Charms textbook to get a 'feel' for sixth year.

Upon instructing us ten minute ago, he's resumed his conversation with Vaisey, who apparently has already read the textbook.

Oh look, Katie's sent me a note.

 _You actually reading or just writing in your diary?_ _–_ _KH._

 **Journal. I've already skimmed through the first three, what's the point of reading them fully?** **–** **GM**

 _To get a better understanding, duh. Anyways, did you hear about Danvers' boyfriend?_

 **The one who he went travelling with?**

 _The very same. Well, he was telling Vaisey and all the others that he proposed!_

 **PROPOSED** **? That's so sweet! When's the wedding?**

 _Well, from my good listening skills, it seems like he wants to do it on the Hogwarts grounds. And guess what? He wants all of us to be there! He says that we're a part of his heart and he wants us to be a part of his wedding._

 **Oh wow, good jobs he's gay because I think the whole female population would have swooned and fainted with that.**

 _Gay or not, I'd snap_ him _up in a heart-beat. To think we're always going on about his weird holiday obsession is. At least his boyfriend is like that too. He's thinking of a winter or spring wedding by the way. I think he should have a winter one ONLY if its snowy._

 **Good point, you should tell him. You taking Div this year?**

 _Yeah, Kiki said I shouldn't but I've decided we had so much fun pissing around last year with Professor O'Connor, why not do the same this year with the new teacher? And anyway, it's a good lesson to have if you want to skip._

 **This is why Kiki made prefect and we didn't. Alas, I have the same idea as you. And considering we passed, I think that was a good thing. Theresa and Viv have also taken it, just for fun. Did you hear the new teacher being introduced yesterday? I don't even know their name.**

 _No, Theresa was explaining a new song she'd learnt on the accordion. I guess we'll have to see – double Divination this afternoon. I don't know if they're male or female, that's how much Theresa was talking._

 **I was busy because James Potter nearly set all the fireworks in his bag alight. We had to douse his bag in water from our goblets before realising we had wands.**

 _And to think you're all purebloods too. Ha ha. Well, half-blood for you anyway. I didn't realise you were friendly with those two, doesn't Viv still hate them?_

 **I'm not, really. I was planning on sitting with Al and Louis. Viv still hates them.**

 _Well you seemed real chummy with James in Potions earlier. I heard him saying to Fred and Karl that you had said he was great at potions._

 **EURGH! I wrote that in my journal – his big ass nose looked! I was only saying we were a good team for Potions – I mean; did you** ** _see_** **Constantine's face? She wished we'd made a bigger batch!**

 _Blowing your own horn, a bit there, Gracie-O. It was pretty funny though. I'm probably failing this year because she's set me next to Lewis Hopkins, who's pretty much hopeless._

 **That's because he fancies you.**

 _Really? He DID go all stutter-y. Oh well, I'll just have to do it myself. At least that's better than Theresa, who's decided to make HER partner, Justin Lennox, do all the work. At least he can't do her homework for today._

Oh god, Justin Lennox. He's still a major hotty, by the way. He's got the eyes of the majority of the girls, which is worse for me because I made myself be an idiot to one of the most popular boys in school.

 **Don't even start with Justin Lennox. The boy hasn't spoken to me since fourth-year.**

 _Oh gosh, I forgot – HA HAA! That was so funny. He was so red I thought he'd explode._

 **HE was red? What about ME? I ran out of the Great Hall so fast I nearly fell over!**

 _It's sad that you did that, you know, because you never got a reply. He might've said yes._

 **Yeah, because going red is what you do when you're going to say yes.**

 _Yeah it is. He was probably red because he liked you back._

 **Or he was ashamed of being outed as the boy who I took a fancy too? I would be embarrassed about that!**

 _Whatever you say Gracie._

* * *

 **1.10pm. Gryffindor Common Room.**

I don't think I've ever _not_ hung around with Vivian on the first day back. But seriously, I haven't seen her since breakfast. And I know for a fact that she didn't have a lesson when I had Charms and doesn't have a lesson now.

WHERE IS SHE?

* * *

 **1.15pm.**

After Charms (Professor Danvers had the cheek to set us homework after doing nothing in the lesson) I bumped into Mickey when making my way back up here. His first words were 'Oh, it's you.'

Thanks bro.

"How's Hufflepuff?" I had replied, ignoring his last comment.

"Great, actually," Mickey said. "I have Charms now."

"I've just had it – Professor Danvers is really nice."

"That's good," said Mickey. "Because Professor Tugwood nearly gave me detention."

"WHAT?"

I have to admit; I didn't act well. I mean, who would if they found their little brother nearly got detention on their very first day? Not even James Potter!

Apparently because Mickey had seen so many detention letters from me or my teachers about me, he thought it was cool. Which was quite flattering but annoying at the same time.

"You can't think it's a good thing," I told him firmly. "it's very bad. And you're a first-year. You just behave in all your lessons like a good little Hufflepuff, alright? I'll see you later."

Then I walked away because I didn't want to make him late. See? I'm a good sister, in a way.

* * *

 **1.43pm, Great Hall. Lunchtime.  
Weather: Clear & Bright. **

Vivian appeared at lunchtime but turned deaf when I questioned her whereabouts. She asked if I was looking forwards to Divination this afternoon, and I said I was because we had a new teacher. She then asked if I was going to sit next to James again like I did yesterday and in Potions. I told her that a) it was an accident last night and b) Professor Constantine does a seating plan and c) she should know this because she was put next to Spencer Jennings, fellow Gryffindor.

Luckily for me (Vivian acted weird after that) Theresa, Katie and Kiki came in for lunch as well and decided to sit with us.

Katie had apparently told Theresa about Professor Danvers' proposal because she was debating whether she'd ask to play the accordion for him during the ceremony.

"You can't have an _accordion_ at a wedding," said Vivian, looking rather disgusted, may I add.

"Why not?" Theresa demanded.

"It's not a very romantic instrument, is it? It's not the right – er – tune."

"Considering Professor Danvers is obsessed with national holidays and festivals, I doubt he'll care if his music isn't _traditional_ in your mind," retorted Theresa.

"It's not the accordion I think isn't romantic," Vivian snapped back. "It's _you."_

This was totally unfair, and Theresa nearly cried. When her eyes did fill up with tears, she stood up and stormed away. Kiki followed her quickly, and Katie glared at Vivian. I was really stuck in the middle. I mean, it was totally out of order for Vivian to full out disrespect Theresa's playing. But what are the best friends meant to do in this situation? Stay with said best friend. So, when Katie had left, I decided to talk to Vivian about not saying mean things. Except, Vivian had other plans.

"What she gone off crying for?" she said in disgust. "What a cry-baby. Obviously hit a nerve."

"Vivian," I said, rather surprised. "What you said was really horrible. Theresa's really passionate about her playing and you were an utter bitch."

"Excuse me?" Vivian said, her eyes stormy. "I'm a bitch? I was telling it like it is – just like _you_ do, Grace, you hypocrite. What's the matter? Gone all soft now?"

What a fucking asshole.

"I tell the truth, actually," I defended (whilst keeping a cool head, may I add). "Blunt honesty. What you said was untrue and harsh. Especially because Theresa's our roommate and it's only the first day. And don't call _me_ a hypocrite, Vivian, when it's not even true."

Vivian decided to get up then (I probably won that argument and she couldn't think of a comeback) and walked over and sat down next to …. ROSE WEASLEY!

* * *

 **1.52pm.**

I don't know what the matter is with Vivian.

THINGS VIVIAN ABERCROMBIE HAS DONE AND IT'S STILL ONLY THE FIRST DAY:

a) Made friends with Rose Weasley over the summer.

b) Sitting with her/inviting her to sit in OUR compartment.

c) Forgetting her best friend's troubles about Sam Bradley and Rose Weasley.

d) Thinking we are so much more mature now.

e) Being horrible to Theresa and her accordion

f) Calling me a hypocrite and being spiteful.

g) SITTING WITH ROSE WEASLEY.

* * *

 **1.58pm.**

She's laughing at something Rose said.

And they're looking over at me whilst they are laughing.

EURGGGGGHHHHHHH.

* * *

 **2.04pm**

Dylan just came over.

"Glad Mick got into Hufflepuff?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"Well, he's out of our hair now," replied Dylan, looking pleased. "And we'll probably like him much more."

"What a great brother you are," I said snidely.

"Where's Vivian anyway?" asked Dylan.

I pointed glumly towards the traitor.

"She's sitting with that Weasley girl?"

"Yes," I said.

"Bad luck," said Dylan, starting to walk away. "I've heard she's a right slut."

That I know, Dylan, that I know.

* * *

 **2.24pm, Divination.**

Professor Gardner really doesn't know what she's let herself in for.

1) She's teaching a subject that everyone thinks is bullshit

2) She's teaching a subject which the majority of its students are taking it for a laugh.

3) She's teaching me, Vivian, Theresa, James, Fred, Katie and Jerry Cooper, and all of us were the main reason Professor O'Connor quit last year.

4) She's let us sit where we want.

Considering Vivian had a) hurt Theresa and b) been a bitch to me and c) sat with Rose Weasley I decided I didn't want to sit with her during Divination. So I'm now sat with Theresa and Katie Hooper, who are both suggesting various ways of how-to-make-her-life-really-shit. Currently they are proposing the idea of dipping her make-up brushes in Itching Powder or a colouring potion.

Katie's now shut down this idea because we've realised that everyone uses Vivian's make-up brushes (more often without her knowledge. But it's because she has the best ones).

I suggest putting all her clothes on the house elves in the kitchen, and I've just told Katie and Theresa this and they think it's an excellent idea. Success.

* * *

 **2.32pm. Writing on my Divination 'notes'.**

She's an asshole.

ASS. HOLE.

* * *

 **2.34pm.**

I really do fear for Professor Gardner. It's only her first day and she already has no idea what she's done.

After she'd settled us down – by flapping her arms up at down, which made her look like a bird because she was wearing this weird green kimono type thing and she had feathers in her hair – we all looked at her expectantly.

… and she just stood there.

Literally.

For five minutes.

That is, until she marched over to our table and took my journal. SHE TOOK IT. It's on her desk, glaring at her as she's talking about what we have to do today.

* * *

 **2.35pm**

What a bitch, you know? No teacher does that on the FIRST day. They're meant to make you LIKE them before becoming a little sterner. But I hate her now.

When she took my journal – JOURNAL, not diary as she said – there was this collective gasp around the room. EVERYONE knows to not touch my journal. It's common knowledge. I mean, the last time someone touched it [James Potter] back in third-year, with the intent of reading it aloud to everyone, I cursed him so he spent three days in the hospital wing. We both got detention for it, but it's OK, James laughs about it now and says he's learnt his lesson. Which is quite impressive for anyone to do because he never admits _that._

Anyway, Professor Gardner seemed oblivious to this gasp as she put it on her desk.

'Did she just take Gracie's diary?' [Karl Thomas, Fellow Gryffindor.] IT'S A JOURNAL, KARL.  
'I _thought_ there was something fishy with her.' [Sheena Brook, Ravenclaw.]  
' - Must have a death wish -' [One of the Warrington twins, Slytherin] Ha ha, she does.  
'D'you think she'll hex her?' [Nadia-from-Ravenclaw]. I don't know her last name. Seriously, it left my head in second year and has never returned.

I _didn't_ hex her though, which was quite an achievement, on my part. Professor Gardner seemed to hear the comments, though.

"I will not have anyone not paying attention in this class. The Professors have told me about _you,_ Miss McCauldon. I will not permit your incessant scribbling."

 _INCESSANT SCRIBBLING?_

 _EURRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH._

"You can use your _talents_ for your homework [collective groan from class] which is to write a dream diary. Professor O'Connor has already set you this a few years back, but lets see how your abilities have changed, shall we? Next lesson will be interpreting your dreams and some lucky few will get to read them to the class."

What.

The.

Fuck.

By the way, she was looking at me when saying it. So I'm going to be reading my dreams to the class. This could get interesting.

* * *

 **Great Hall, Dinnertime.**

Apparently Vivian's back to normal again because woe and behold, after Divination she was waiting for me.

"Professor Gardner is such a bitch, isn't she?" she said, linking arms. "I can't believe she took your diary!" JOURNAL. "it was so mean. I thought you were going to hex her. It would have been hilarious."

I grinned at this. "I was tempted."

"Lets go dump our bags off at the Tower," said Viv. "Then we'll go to dinner – ooh, I have _such_ interesting news!"

So that was that, really.

HOWEVER, I didn't say that Professor Gardner made me stay back after class (which was why Vivian had to wait for me).

 **THE MEETING BETWEEN PROF. GARDNER AND HER STUDENT, GRACE MCCAULDON AFTER DIVINATION CLASS ON THE SECOND OF SEPTEMBER. Written as a movie script because I should be a film director.**

FADE IN:

Int. of DIVINATION CLASSROOM.

THE CLASS HAS JUST BEEN LET OUT, GRACE MCCAULDON HAS BEEN ASKED TO STAY BEHIND.

PROF. GARDNER

I'm sorry for earlier, Grace, but I needed to teach a lesson. You must not write in your diary in my class.

GRACE [Faking pleasantness]

That's fine, Professor. I mean, it was your first day, after all.

PROF. GARDNER

Thank you for understanding, Grace. I hope you won't hold it against me in the future. I am doing just doing my job.

GRACE [inwardly seething – no one touches her journal]

Of course, Professor. I wouldn't dream of it.

PROF. GARDNER

[PICKING UP THE JOURNAL] You can put the effort you have in your own diary into your divination homework. Unless you write down your dreams already?

GRACE

No, Professor, I don't. But I shall put – er – effort into this dream diary homework.

PROF. GARDNER

[RIFLING THROUGH PAGES] You do write a lot in here.

GRACE [SNATCHING THE JOURNAL]

Professor, this is personal. It says don't read on the front of it.

PROF. GARDNER

A lot of the teachers wonder what you write in it.

GRACE [NOW ANNOYED]

Well they'll just have to keep speculating. It's not obligatory to share, you know.

PROF. GARDNER

McCauldon –

GRACE FLOUNCES DRAMATICALLY OUT OF THE CLASSROOM.

[END SCENE]

* * *

 **Still Dinner.**

Okay, so maybe I didn't flounce from the room – I actually whacked my arm on the doorframe – but it did happen like that. She had such cheek rifling through my journal. Honestly. I'm going to get her back for that. Teacher or not.

* * *

 **HOMEWORK:**

Charms: _read chapters 1-3 and make notes on all the pages_

CoMC: n/a

DADA: n/a

Divination: _Dream Diary [FUCK YOU]_

Herbology: n/a

Potions: _Write a paragraph on what Amortentia does – to be reviewed next lesson._

Transfiguration: n/a

* * *

 **Friday, September 3** **rd** **  
7.14am, Gryffindor Girls Dormitory  
Weather: cloudy – really rather grey, actually.  
Status: normal.**

Seriously, damn that Kiki Parkes. 7AM AGAIN?! She went around singing at 7 to wake us up – except to Vivian. Instead she picked up Theresa's accordion and played it right in her ear to wake her up. It was very funny, and it's made Theresa in a very good mood, but Viv in a very bad one. Such a bad one, in fact, that she's taken all her make-up brushes into the bathroom with her.

"Damn," Katie is saying now. "I was going to use them today."

"Why?" Kiki is replying. "Hot date?"

Katie is laughing at this.

Oh shit –

* * *

 **8.08am, Great Hall.**

They tossed me out of bed so that I'd get up then sat on my bed so I couldn't go back in it.

Good news, however, because I've actually found my school shoes. They were in my trunk.

I'm currently sitting with Vivian at the Gryffindor table and she's reading the new edition of _Glamour Witch_ that came with her mail this morning.

"Looks like the Sorceress Sisters are doing a comeback tour in December – tickets are twelve galleons. My Mum loves them, d'you think I should get her tickets for Christmas?" this was Vivian's chatter from reading the magazine. "Maybe I'll get one for my auntie as well. Oh, there's a _Which Wizard Celebrity should you date? Possible results: Mikel Wagtail, the Weird Sisters' Myron Wagtails' gorgeous son, Harry Potter, our saviour – still handsome at 41, Daniel Wilson, Wimbourne Wasps Chaser –"_

"Still handsome at 41? Dad _will_ be pleased."

Ahh, along came James Potter.

I looked up from my breakfast at this point, and Vivian slowly put her magazine down with a glare.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"Calm down, Abercrombie, no need to snap," said James pleasantly. And, may I add, he was actually alone for once. Normally he's got at least Fred or Karl or someone. Hmm, strange.

"Anyway," he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I was here for McCauldon anyways." Last name basis, see? And that's why I call him Potter. Mostly.

"What do you want then?" I asked, somewhat warily because who knows what this boy is capable of.

"We have a Quidditch meeting tonight," said James.

"Really?" I asked, perking up.

"Don't get too excited, Estella said that it's just a discussion," James said.

I deflated at this.

"Oh, well, thanks anyways," I replied.

James nodded and started walking off. I was just turning back to a scowling Vivian when he turned back.

"Seven o'clock."

"Wha – oh, right, thanks," I said. James nodded again. He really does nod a lot, I have noticed. He then waltzed off back towards his little crew. And that's where we are now.

"Grace?" Vivian's voice cuts through my little daze.

Shit. I've been staring at James Potter ever since he's left. Uh oh.

" _Grace."_

"Yes, Vivian?" I reply.

"Were you just _staring_ at Potter?"

"Er no?"

"You were," she's accusing me.

"No I wasn't I was thinking about the meeting tonight."

Vivian scowled. "I don't like this brand new infatuation with Potter," she poked her fork into her fruit bowl.

"Excuse me?" I splutter out my juice. "What about _your_ one with Rose Weasley?"

I, however, stupidly did not say that I wasn't infatuated with James Potter. So, annoyingly, Vivian has called it a 'truce' for now.

Truce? For being _infatuated_ with people we hate?

I bet … no.

* * *

 **8.35am. Sixth Year Girls' Dorm, collecting books for the day.**

What I was going to say is [and I've decided to say this because this is MY journal and I'm allowed to] that I bet KATIE or KIKI or THERESA wouldn't call a truce when someone befriends their enemy. They'd apologise, either say they won't see them anymore or promise they won't say anything they don't approve.

* * *

 **8.42am, My Bed.**

My timetable today is as follows:

9.00-11.05 – Double Transfiguration  
11.10-11.25 – Break  
11.25-1.30 – Double Defence Against the Dark Arts  
1.30-2.15 – Lunch  
2.15-3.15 – Care of Magical Creatures  
3.15-3.30 – Break  
3.35-4.35 – Free

* * *

 **Sometime during Transfiguration [Professor Tugwood's clock has stopped working and she HASN'T NOTICED YET] [[LIKE PLEASE IT'S THE FIRST LESSON OF TRANSFIG. AT LEAST HAVE YOUR CLOCK WORKING]] [[[Or maybe she's done it JUST to mess with us? Interesting …]]]**

Anyway, the arrival of double Transfiguration came swiftly enough, but I wasn't exactly _dreading_ it. Like I am with Herbology.

4 REASONS WHY GRACIE SHOULD HAVE LEFT HERBOLOGY ALONE:

 **1.** I dislike Herbology. This is a spectacular reason not to take the subject. I dislike History of Magic as well, so this year, I did not take it. [However I also failed History of Magic] [[saying that I only got an 'A' in Herbology]]

 **2.** I'm not _good_ at Herbology. Like Professor Longbottom said. I really am not. Plants and I do not mix. I'm good at Potions because the plants DO NOT MOVE or try to KILL YOU like that Venomous Tentacular did last year. And it wasn't even during the lesson – I mean, we didn't study them that year [I think it's this year we do] but I had detention clearing out the greenhouses with Professor Longbottom and there you go: recipe for disaster.

 **3.** I fail the majority of my assignments. Seriously.

 **4.** I dropped a whole barrel of Puffapods on the floor and the ENTIRE greenhouse bloomed flowers. And they refused to move for three months.

… and yet I've convinced Longbottom it's a good idea for me to return?

Moving on.

Tugwood, like Constantine, likes to have seating plans so she can a) split up James and Fred and b) make sure nothing happens that could kill someone [hem hem – third-year] c) because it's a rather large class.

So I was placed next to Tabitha Partington, a Hufflepuff who James went out with in fourth year for about the entire year.

Tabitha, who I have never spoken to, not properly, seemed so intimidated by myself that I actually giggled when I saw her face. This seemed to make her look even more frightened so I decided to smother the giggles and act slightly nicer toward her.

"Hullo," I said with a [nice] [friendly] grin. "I'm Grace McCauldon, by the way."

"I know," said Tabitha Partington, as though it was obvious. Which it wasn't because to be honest Vivian's like my only friend. And I'm having doubts about her too because of the I-Now-Love-Rose-Weasley thing. I should be a solitary woman who don't need no friends. It should be my personal life motto.

ANYWAY, I'm distracting myself.

"Er – right," I replied, shaken from Tabitha's rather short answer. "Well, let's sit down shall we?"

"Sure," she said. Professor Tugwood was calling out different names. Vivian was placed next to Sam Bradley – she threw me a _I-remember-our-conversation_ look before sitting down and striking up a conversation. Katie got put next to Justin Lennox and _she_ threw me a _Haha-remember-our-note-conversation_ look. Theresa is with Joseph Warrington at the back of the classroom, and she didn't shoot me any look because she was reading her new music book and only realised her name was called when Warrington poked her in the back. She's now putting paper balls in his mouth, because he's fallen asleep on the desk with his mouth wide open.

Fred Weasley got put on the desk next to me. His partner is Ava Taylor, who I became chummy with in Potions last year, because we were desk buddies. Unlike many girls, she is unfazed by Fred's appearance. Which, today, is him wearing his tie around his head.

Last year, Fred and James had a competition of who-could-wear-their-tie-differently-everyday, which was rather amusing to see, because said ties were made into belts, headbands, braclets anklets, socks and what James called 'earrings'. It went on for longer than everyone thought it would, but was stopped by the teachers when Fred turned up to class without one visible. James had let out a cheer, thinking he had won until Fred admitted to where it was. He was in the process of unzipping his trousers for everyone to see when Professor O'Connor jumped in, blushing furiously with either embarrassment or rage and sent him to Professor Bones' office.

Anyhow, Fred has decided that wearing it around your head was the best place [except from the normal place, that it] and had waltzed into class with it effortlessly done, with his hair managing to look good with it. Which is impressive considering its orange and the tie is red and gold. By the way, James hasn't even _got_ a tie on.

Professor Tugwood has just suggested to Fred that he should remove the tie from his head as he is apparently distracting the class. This was true _outside_ the classroom where I spotted fourth-year Claudia Coote _actually_ swooning over him and needing her friends to keep her steady. Fred has now stated that Tugwood is discriminating him over his looks when he can't help being the God-like person he is.

Tugwood, after pinching the bridge of her nose because she's been putting up with him for so many years [since Professor McGonagall left in second-year], took twenty points off of Gryffindor and frowned at him. He's still refusing to take it off, however, and has instead just winked at me because I was watching him, along with everyone else.

Seriously, these boys are INSUFFERABLE.


End file.
